An arm and a leg
by Ravager Zero
Summary: A 'what if' story inspired by the idea that maybe Anna was a second too early. A single second. One that changed everything. Rated T for some violence/description of violence and blood. Also, suggestive themes. Re-rated M for later chapters, just in case. Disclaimer: Frozen belongs to Disney, no challenge to their status is intended.
1. Cold Shoulder

"Anna is dead because of you."

That was the moment Elsa's world collapsed. The revelation struck her like a physical blow. Anna had frozen to death. Frozen to death because Elsa couldn't control her magic. Elsa fell to the ground, the frozen surface of the fjord. She wanted to cry, to scream, to weep. She wanted to feel anything. Anything at all. She knew she never would. Never again. The wind silenced. The blizzard swirled to nothingness. The snow hung motionless in the air. There was nothing. Nothing left for her.

There was muffled shouting in the distance, but Elsa couldn't make out what was being said. It might have been people calling out names. Maybe even her name. There was a sound, much closer. Metal scraping on metal. It came from behind her, Hans drawing his sword. Elsa didn't care. If Anna was dead because of her, she deserved to die. Footsteps echoed across the ice.

The sound of steel carving through flesh drowned everything else out. There was a crack of bone splintering. An inhuman scream echoed across the fjord. A scream that cut off far too quickly. A sudden crash of breaking steel, a scream of tortured metal. Fire burned across Elsa's back, and she felt something nick against her spine. Her back arched in pain. But she wasn't dead. A soft thud echoed across the ice.

Elsa dared to turn around. If she had not already been on the ground, Elsa would surely have fallen to her knees. Anna stood behind her, frozen. A perfect statue of her sister, rendered in the most heartbreakingly pure ice. But her arm. Her right arm. Elsa fought the urge to vomit. Hans's sword had torn through Anna's arm, starting between her middle finger and ring finger, and ending just past her elbow. Frozen, her arm was a perfect anatomical study.

Elsa stood, wanting to embrace her sister. Tried to stand. Fell over. Pushing herself up with her hands, Elsa realized she couldn't even get her knees under her. Realized she couldn't feel her legs at all. She crawled the few agonizingly short feet to Anna, and used her sister's frozen body to pull herself upright. As she held her sister in the warmest, tightest embrace she could manage, Elsa wept. The tears flowed without sound. There was a soft pat-pat-pat as they hit the ice.

Elsa looked into her sister's face, the pained scream frozen on her lips, the tears misting the ice under her eyes. There was a strange dribbling, and Elsa felt something warm and sticky running down the side of her dress. Anna screamed, falling to the ice, clutching at her ruined arm, dragging Elsa down with her. Elsa knew she had only a faint chance, the pool of blood already spreading over the ice. She pressed her hands to Anna's arm, let the magic flow.

Anna's scream subsided, replaced by slow and ragged breathing. Slowly, shakily, the redheaded princess of Arendelle stood, her frozen arm hanging at her right side like a dead weight. Her sister still lay in the pool of blood. Anna did her best to ignore it. Ignore the fact it made her feel light-headed and slightly sick.

"Elsa, get up. I want to hug you so bad right now."

"I can't."

"You're still shutting me out?!"

"No, I–I can't stand up," Elsa's breathing became shallow as she realized the implications of what she'd just said. Her legs might have failed her before, but she simply couldn't feel them at all now. They wouldn't do her bidding. It seemed a small price to pay to have her sister back.

"Anna, you saved me," Elsa's voice was full of surprise and gratitude.

"I love you, Elsa. I never want to see you hurt."

"But your arm?"

Anna looked down at the ruin that was her right arm and shuddered. A complex flurry of emotions played across her face, ending with rage and acceptance.

"Is not your fault, Elsa. It's Hans's fault. It was his sword."

Anna stalked over to where Hans was finally regaining consciousness. She let her ruined, frozen arm hang limp, turned so it would be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. His eyes widened with shock as he rose, uncomprehending at first. When he saw the red hair, his expression changed to horror. When he saw the queen dragging herself hands and knees over the ice towards him, that expression changed to terror. Without a word Hans, prince of the Southern Isles, turned, and ran.

Straight into Kristoff. The ice harvester floored him with a single blow, a beautiful haymaker. Anna tried to applaud, but found it impossible with only one arm working. She waved instead, beckoning him over. He looked down at Elsa, extending a hand to help her up.

"Talk about giving your sister the cold shoulder."

Anna couldn't help it. She giggled like a little girl. Somehow, those words broke the spell of darkness that seemed to be hanging over the ice. Even Olaf was back, stepping over melting ice.

"An act of true love will thaw a frozen a heart," the little snowman said softly. "Anna, that was so brave!"

"I love my sister. More than anything."

"Love will thaw…" Elsa repeated blankly, held up by Kristoff, finally comprehending. "Love."

Everything, all the good times, all the fun they'd had as children. Elsa let the happiness and joy of those times flow through her being. The ice began to melt faster and faster. The snow lifted to the sky. Elsa couldn't help herself, she made all of the snow and ice into a giant snowflake above the town of Arendelle. Then, with a thought, she let it go. She was surprised to be standing on the deck of a ship, Anna holding her up on one side, Kristoff on the other.

"Summer! This the best day of my life!" Olaf exclaimed, melting disturbingly quickly. "And quite possibly the last."

Elsa freed her left hand from Kristoff's shoulder and twirled it in the air, giving the brave little snowman a touch of her magic.

"My own personal flurry!" the joy in his words was infectious. Elsa couldn't help but smile. She saw Anna smiling too, then frowning as she saw Hans standing up. Anna stepped away from her sister, making sure Kristoff was keeping Elsa safe.

"But… your sister froze your heart!"

Anna stepped menacingly close. "You ruined my arm. You tried to kill Elsa. The only frozen heart around here is _yours!_" Even with her left arm, Anna's punch was powerful enough to send the supposed prince overboard. It helped that he was next to the edge of the deck anyway. Anna smiled, satisfied with her work. She looked back to Elsa, the way Kristoff had to hold her up, and her smile faded.

"Elsa, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know Anna. But I'm not going to shut you out this time. Never again."

"You were a right stinker. But you're back now. And I like the new you."

"Thank you. But what about your arm?" Elsa was very concerned for her sister's wellbeing. "I'm not sure anyone has that kind of magic anymore."

"They don't have to," Anna said softly, trying to hold back a laugh. "We have each other. It only cost us an arm and a leg."

"Anna, that's _not_ _funny_," but Elsa was laughing too. That was the best thing about Anna, Elsa decided. She could always see the bright side. Always tried to make you laugh, even if you didn't feel like smiling. Elsa's tone became serious. "You might lose your arm. I don't think the castle physician can do anything with that kind of injury."

Anna looked straight at Elsa, as if the older woman was missing the point. "I know, Elsa, I know. When I felt Hans's blade hit my hand I knew I'd never be able to use my arm again. I was afraid he would kill me. Cut me in half."

Elsa shuddered, but said nothing. It was clear Anna hadn't finished speaking.

"But I wasn't afraid to die. I was afraid Hans was going to kill _you_ Elsa. I couldn't let that happen. No matter how much it was going to cost me."

"You didn't know you'd freeze right then?"

"I was more afraid I'd freeze _before_ I got to you. I was lucky, I guess."

"Hey Anna, Anna," Olaf reached around pulled one of his stick arms out, offering it to the princess. "You can use my arm."

Anna knelt down before the snowman and hugged him. "Thank you Olaf, but it wouldn't work for me. I can't just put myself back together like that."

"Oh, okay," Olaf sounded disappointed, placing his arm back where it belonged. "I guess Elsa can't use my legs either then?"

Both Anna and Elsa laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Elsa, the snow queen, riding around on Olaf's legs like they were some kind of sentient footstool. Kristoff helped Elsa to kneel next to her sister, hugging Olaf.

"You never have to do anything like that for us, Olaf," Elsa said softly. "But thank you."

Anna and Elsa looked around, Anna helping her sister to the side of the ship. The royal guard were just fishing Hans out of the fjord. A crowd was starting to gather at the gates of the castle.

"We should get back to the castle," Elsa looked pointedly at her sister. "The people of Arendelle need to know what happened here."

"I'll be there," Anna promised. "By your side. You know, you're getting kinda heavy."

"Did you just call me fat?!"

"Did I say that out loud?" Anna blushed a furious red.

Elsa sighed. "I'm sorry Anna. I know I'm a bit of a drag right now."

Anna laughed so hard she nearly dropped her sister. "I think we need Kristoff's help to move you around."

Later, speaking from the castle's balcony, Elsa finished her address to the people of Arendelle. "And so, for the attempted murder of my sister, princess Anna of Arendelle, and for his attempt on my life as Queen, Hans, prince of the Southern Isles is charged with high treason in Arendelle. He is sentenced to exile, to be returned to his brothers by the king of France."

"You may have noticed that my sister, Anna, and the ever reliable Gerda, have not left my side for this entire speech. I would dismiss them so that I could stand upon my own two feet. It would be difficult, for I can no longer feel my feet, or my legs. When prince Hans's sword broke, part of it slashed across my back. That was after he all but sliced Anna's arm in half"—Elsa used her right hand to gesture towards Anna's arm, still frozen and encased in ice—"which is why her arm remains frozen. We fear she may lose it."

"This is not all I have to declare. While prince Hans's actions could be considered an act of war by the Southern Isles, I will not hold them responsible for his actions. His actions were his own. They would not be representative of any but the most atrocious of kingdoms. Thus, when the king of France delivers the traitor prince to his rightful home, I will ask for an envoy to be sent to us, one who better represents the people of the Southern Isles."

"I must also thank all of you, every citizen of Arendelle, for your patience, forbearance, and understanding. I hope the events of the past few days are never repeated. What was done, was done. We are all lucky it could be undone at all. I admit that for the longest time I was afraid of my powers. Afraid of hurting anyone. Everyone. I kept shutting people out. People who could have helped me control them. Explore what they could do."

As she spoke, Elsa was making subtle movements with each hand. Lines of ice began drawing graceful arches over walls and pillars of the castle. Fractal flowers bloomed at the peak of each arch. A massive snowflake decorated the flagpole atop the castle. Ice began to coat the courtyard. The intricacy of the patterns on the arches was breathtaking. The ice underfoot was entertaining.

"So now I will try and use them always as what they are: A Gift."

* * *

**AN:** This is currently a oneshot, but if people like it, I'm considering continuing it. I think it would make for a very interesting dynamic to see how the sisters support each other through their recovery, and how they adapt to the new challenges life throws at them.


	2. Nightmares & Memories

The silence was deafening. Anna looked down at her hands, freezing from within. Kristoff was calling her name in the distance. Snow hung motionless in the air. There was the sinister sound of metal scraping against metal. She turned. Hans had drawn his sword, raised it to strike Elsa. Anna ran, her footsteps slow, her body heavy from the ice inside her heart. The sword began to fall.

"No!"

She felt the sword carve deep into her arm. Felt bones splinter and break. Anna's scream echoed across the fjord. The blade continued, ripping through her shoulder in a spray of blood that showered Elsa's back. Anna tried to look away as she fell, her body slowly turning to ice. She couldn't. Elsa's body fell to the side. Just before the ice claimed her, Anna saw her sister's sightless eyes staring at her across the fjord. Elsa's headless body was the last thing Anna ever saw.

With a scream she was awake, sleep still paralyzing her body. Anna took a deep breath. Two. Three. Her right arm felt heavy, cold. With a start she remembered. Her sister had frozen it, after Hans's sword had all but cut it in half. In the moonlight Anna could see the beauty of her sister's magic, the purity of the ice. It was harder to see the split down her forearm, but it was there. She could feel it.

In her head, Anna knew Elsa was fine. In her heart, still clouded by the nightmare, she wasn't so sure. It was silly, but she had to see Elsa, make sure her sister was okay. It wasn't actually a bad idea, she considered. Elsa couldn't walk anymore, she might need something. Before she realized it, Anna was standing at the door to her sister's room. A closed door. A very familiar door—how long had she watched it, waited in front of it, leaned against it? She didn't know. Anna just knew it was a long time, and she knew now why—or at least some of the why—her sister had shut her out.

Trying to keep her safe. Elsa was a stinker, but Anna would never have blamed her for what happened—if she still knew. Anna would have tried to help, to give her sister control. To love her sister. To simply be _there_ for her. It was what sisters were for. It was what she was there for now. And yet, Anna was still hesitating, distracting herself. She was afraid to knock, afraid she wouldn't get an answer.

Anna took a deep breath. She had to have courage, so she knocked on Elsa's door. Just once.

Silence was her only reply. Her sister couldn't be shutting her out that easily again, could she?

She knocked again. And again.

Something unintelligible came through the door.

Anna knocked one more time.

"What?"

"Elsa?"

"Anna, it's—" there was a long pause, a half snore, and another pause "it's two-thirty in the morning."

"I had a bad dream."

"I'm _in_ one," Elsa replied testily, her tone softened by the slurred words.

"I just need to know you're safe. You're okay. You still have all your body—oops. I just said that out loud."

"The door's unlocked Anna. I left it like that for you."

"Oh."

Elsa had propped herself up using several pillows at the head of the bed. Her legs were still under the covers. Anna closed the door behind her, then sat on the bed next to her sister, bowing her head. It was a scene that had played out many times in their youth, before the split.

"Oh, Anna," Elsa gently stroked her sister's unbraided hair. "It was bad, wasn't it?"

"I di—died," Anna mumbled. "I froze. _After_ Hans cut my arm. After he _killed_ you. It was your body, your face—but it wasn't you Elsa. You were dead."

"Shh," Elsa tried to comfort her sister, tried to remember what it was they had done all those years ago. "I'm here. I'm safe. You're safe. It was just a dream."

"A nightmare," Anna corrected absentmindedly. She was suddenly hugging her sister, her frozen arm weighing heavily against Elsa's chest. "I love you Elsa. I don't wanna lose you again."

"You won't," Elsa promised, wrapping her arms around the younger girl. "It's not like I can run anywhere this time."

Anna smiled, her words tentative, a hint of fear behind them. "Is it—is it okay if I sleep here tonight Elsa?"

Elsa took a deep breath, releasing her sister from the embrace.

"Is that a no?" tears glistened at the corners of the red-headed princess's eyes.

"No, Anna. I was just thinking," looking the other way, Anna didn't see the tears at the corner of Elsa's eyes.

"Thinking about what?" Anna sniffed.

"I was thinking about the last time we were in bed together. It was during that big storm. You were four. You ran over to my bed and started crying because of the thunder."

In the moonlight Anna thought she saw a tear roll off her sister's cheek as she spoke. She might have been crying as well. Everything seemed kind of blurry.

"And I slept in your bed for three days."

"Until the storm passed and the aurora lit up the sky."

"The sky was awake," Anna smiled through the tears.

"And that was when you asked me to do the magic," Elsa spoke without thinking. It was after two in the morning, and her brain wasn't working properly anymore.

"I used to know you could do magic?"

"Yes, you did, but… I–uh, something happened. You can't remember now," Elsa's attempt to cover her lapse sounded lame even to her half-awake ears.

"Why can't I remember it?" Anna was curious. This was the first she was learning of her sister's magic from the past.

"Because you don't have those memories anymore, Anna. Grand Pabbie had to take them away from you. I hurt you before. _That's_ why I shut you out," That was it. The truth was out. Anna could hate her all she liked. Elsa could deal with it in the morning—when she was actually awake.

"You are such a stinker Elsa," Anna's voice was full of reproach, but empty of accusation. "Wait, is that why I had the white in my braid?"

"Yes," Elsa sighed. "We were playing, you jumped too high, I slipped, and my magic hit you in the head. Mama and Papa rode all night to save you. We got you to the trolls before dawn. That's when Grand Pabbie took your memories of the magic. I'm sorry Anna. We had to. It saved your life."

"And it ruined yours," the pity in Anna's tone made Elsa's heart ache. She knew she didn't deserve this. "If I _had_ known… I wouldn't have been scared of you Elsa. I wouldn't blame you. It was an accident—"

"An accident that I caused."

"—didn't mama ever tell you it's rude to interrupt? Anyway, where was I?"

"You were saying it wasn't my fault, when it really is."

"It was an _accident_ Elsa. These things happen. Like crashing into Hans's horse—well, that was a bad accident, but at that time it seemed like a happy one. Anyway, I wouldn't have been afraid of you Elsa. I would have tried to help."

"How?"

"I don't know," Anna shrugged hopelessly and Elsa had to laugh.

"That's why I love you so much Anna. You always try to help people. Even if you have no idea what you're doing—no, wait, _especially_ when you have no idea what you're doing."

"Well, when those people can't accept your help; when they keep slamming doors in your face; when they won't even talk to you after your parent's funeral…" Anna's voice trailed off softly. She hadn't really meant to bring _that_ _one_ up. "What was I supposed to do?"

Elsa yawned, turning away to hide the tears in her eyes. What stung wasn't the fact that Anna brought up the day of the funeral. It was the fact that no matter what she said, Elsa knew her sister was right.

"Go to sleep, Anna."

"I was supposed to go to sleep? For thirteen years?!"

"No, Anna. Go to sleep _now_. Because I'm really, really tired."

"Oh, sorry. I guess I might have kept you up past bedtime a little bit."

Elsa mumbled something and rolled over, leaving Anna to listen to her breathing as she dozed atop the covers with her good arm wrapped around her sister. She couldn't see Elsa's sad little smile, couldn't see her silent tears, but Anna could feel her sister relax into the embrace. She wished she had more memories like this one, and quietly began to cry.

* * *

**AN:** So it's a shorter chapter than the first, but I wanted to have that last line as the break point.


	3. Hopes & Fears

The sun sent brilliant shafts through the window of Elsa's bedroom as Gerda knocked at the door. It was perhaps two hours after dawn. The reliable servant had peeked in at dawn, seen both Anna and Elsa in the bed, and decided to let them rest. They needed time to be together with each other, even if that might cut into the time they needed to try and run the kingdom. Now, two hours after sunrise, they really did need to wake up.

Anna mumbled something, sitting upright, eyes still closed. Elsa, next to her, gave a startled cry at the state of her sister's hair. She knew Anna's hair could get messy, but this was… well, she didn't really have words to describe the tangled mass atop her sister's head.

"Queen Elsa, Princess Anna?" they both heard Gerda through the door.

"Jus' five more minutes, please Gerdy," Anna's words were slurred.

"Gerda, thank you," Elsa's words were far clearer. She was used to rising early. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"You looked so peaceful, your highness. It is good to see you spending time with your sister again."

"Oh, okay. Thank you," Elsa turned and shook Anna, who had fallen asleep again. "Come on Anna, time to get up."

"But, but…" Anna protested, then groggily opened her eyes. "Oh. Umm, I—do you—uhh?"

Elsa considered sending her sister out, getting help from Gerda to get changed. Decided against it. If they were going to deal with their injuries, she would take each day on its own. They would overcome all their challenges together. She didn't want Anna to see her as weak, or incapable of anything. Anna wouldn't think like that anyway, Elsa told herself. She'd tell you you were being stupid for not letting her in. _Again_.

"Anna?" Elsa's voice was tentative. "Can you help me change?"

"You can just magic your clothes, right?" Anna shook her head, confused, trying to clear out the fog in her brain.

"I _could_," Elsa stressed. "But I don't _want_ to. I want _your_ help."

"You want… my help?" Anna blinked slowly, not quite getting it.

"Yes, Princess Anna, my spirited sister, I want _your_ help," Elsa's tone was playfully mocking, but turned serious. "I need your help. There's a lot I won't be able to do anymore. I—we, have to get used to that. A day at a time."

"I'm not sure how much I can help with just one arm."

"Oh, you'll get it," Elsa assured her sister. "It's not like you let anything stop you in the past."

Anna smiled, and both young women rose from the bed, Elsa only as far her arms could prop her up. The next ten minutes involved a lot of cursing, fumbling, and general disorder. In the end, Elsa was in a state she could reasonably consider dressed. That just left her hair, which had yet to be braided this morning.

"Anna, if you can just leave the mirror next to the bed, I can do my hair. You can go make yourself look presentable."

"But I a—" Anna stopped as soon as she saw her reflection. The sleepy eyes beneath the tangled mass of red hair and the disheveled nightgown were about as opposite presentable as she could imagine. "Uhh, good idea. Thanks. You're sure you'll be okay?"

"I'm fine, Anna. Gerda can help with the braiding. I'll see you in the dining hall for breakfast."

Breakfast had been a quiet affair. They both remembered their words from the previous night. Anna broke first. She couldn't stay mad at her sister. Not when she saw how hard she was trying to change.

"I'm sorry I said it, happy?" Anna's tone was more challenging than apologetic.

"No."

"Wait, what?!"

"I'm not happy. And you're not that sorry. You were right. You needed me, and I wasn't there for you. Couldn't be there for you."

"I know," sadness softened Anna's reply. "I know. They were your parents too. You were always Papa's favourite."

"And you were Mama's little girl," From her tone, it was clear Elsa was still beating herself up about it. "I should have been there for you. Like a real sister."

"Elsa, it's okay. Really, it is. We survived. We got by," Anna pursed her lips. "Maybe we could have had a few more happy memories, but we got by."

"And it's my fault we don't," if Elsa had still been able to walk, she would have been pacing up and down the room. "You might be able to forgive me for that, but I can't forgive myself—at least, not yet."

"Fine. Just… don't be so hard on yourself. I just wanted my sister back. The good _and_ the bad."

"And the price you paid for that, your arm… it's…"

"Don't you dare say it's too much Elsa, or I'll kick your a—umm, I'll hit you somewhere embarrassing that you can still feel."

"Whoa, hold up there feistypants," it was Kristoff, Kai turned and left, having shown him to the dining hall. "Why do you want to hurt your sister?"

"We had a fight. Last night."

"And you're both still in one piece, uh, metaphorically speaking?"

"We're sisters, we don't always fight with our fists."

"Right, right. So… you're both okay, umm, can I get you anything?"

"Why are you here Kristoff?" Elsa was intrigued.

"Well, I was hoping to talk to Anna, alone, if that's okay with you?"

"Does this have anything to do with a sled she ruined?"

"Uh, well, no actually. It's about today. And tomorrow. And the rest of the week too I guess."

"I'd leave you two alone, but I can't just walk out of here," Elsa turned against the chair. "Gerda, Kai, can you help me to the office please?"

The servants carried Elsa out in short order, leaving Anna alone with Kristoff.

"You're not mad about the sled, are you?"

"No, no. Well, a little."

"And what's this about the rest of the week. Made some plans?"

"I was hoping you'd help me."

"I don't think I'm much good with—oh. Oh. _Plans_," Anna was a little surprised. She hadn't expected Kristoff to be quite that forward.

"Unless you don't want to go," Kristoff sounded adorably nervous to Anna. Kind of how she imagined she'd sounded to Hans. Adorably nervous, and painfully naive.

"I'd like to get out of the castle this afternoon," Anna smiled at the ice harvester. "Get some fresh air."

"Your arm won't thaw?"

"It's Elsa's magic. It won't. not unless she wants it to."

"What about frostbite?"

"Huh?"

"If your arm stays that cold for too long you'll lose it. A few days before things start to get bad."

"I guess Elsa forgot to tell me that part."

"Maybe she didn't want to scare you."

"She kept dropping hints that my arm couldn't be saved. That it was the price I'd paid to get her back. It was worth it, to me."

"I think she feels guilty for it. I know I would."

"Kristoff, are we going to sit here talking about my sister, or are we going to make some actual plans?"

"Well, we could take Olaf on a picnic. In summer!" Kristoff's singing was bad enough that Anna couldn't help but laugh. "Where is he anyway?"

"You know, I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon. At all."

"Hmm."

"Hmm."

"Mhmm."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Anna asked brightly.

"What?"

"Rescue mission! Through the castle! We have to save our valiant little snowman!"

After gathering their supplies—lunch, some rope, and a telescope—they set off through the halls of the castle, searching high and low for Olaf. Anna started with the great hall, then the mezzanine. The ballroom was next, empty as well. Her room. Her sister's room. Their parents' room—Anna made Kristoff wait outside. The study. The library. Elsa's office—which lead to a curt discussion about trying to run a kingdom without a leg to stand on. The courtyard, still covered in ice. The balconies.

"I don't think he's here," Anna sighed, putting down the telescope to pick up a sandwich. "Could he be in town somewhere?"

"Have you heard any screaming recently?"

"Hey, the people of Arendelle are better than that," Anna's words were only half understandable around the sandwich.

"Sure they are princess feistypants. That's why you kicked his head off when _you_ first met him."

Anna didn't reply, she just picked up the telescope again. On a hunch she looked at the snowflake atop the flagpole. A twiggy arm, sticking out the side of a familiar looking head, waved. The red-haired princess waved back, almost losing the telescope. She could see Olaf's head, and one arm. His torso, legs, other arm, and nose were all missing.

"Well, that makes things a little harder."

Kristoff looked at the flagpole, tried to make out the speck stuck to the snowflake. "He's stuck, isn't he?"

"Yup. I'll get the rope," Anna grabbed the rope, tearing through the halls of the castle, her half eaten sandwich long forgotten. Kristoff shrugged, finished the sandwich, then packed everything up. It wasn't like she could get that far ahead of him. Right?

Kristoff eventually found her dangling from the side of the roof, upside down, braids hanging loose. Anna smiled when she saw him. Then she continued trying to climb the side of the castle roof to reach the flagpole. She made it half a dozen steps before a tile slipped. One arm flailing for balance, Anna fell over backwards, nearly collecting Kristoff with her wildly swinging body. She swayed left and right for several seconds, upside down. Eventually she sighed, trying to get right side up.

"I may not have thought this through," she finally admitted.

"Anna, how did you get the rope up there in the first place?"

"I threw it. Climbing hook on the other end."

"Creative. Good thinking. Except I'm guessing you don't know it's caught under a window frame on the other side of the tower."

"Thanks, that was my bes—wait, what?"

"The rope we took is more than long enough to go twice over the tower roof here. If you just hold on, I can pull you up."

"I can do it myself."

"Sure," Kristoff smiled. "I can see that's already got you up to Olaf."

"Fine."

A short while later, and thanks to a lot of effort on Kristoff's part, Anna was atop the roof, shimmying up the flagpole. Olaf waved down to her. She wanted to wave back, but her good arm was holding her to the flagpole.

"Hi Anna. The view up here is amazing!"

"Olaf, how did you get up there?"

"A horse, I think. I was skating across the courtyard last night, ran into something tall, skinny and kinda tree-ish. Except it wasn't that tree-ish. The next thing I know I'm up here, stuck on queen Elsa's giant snowflake."

Anna looked down at the courtyard below. That had to have been quite a kick.

"Say, have you seen my nose?"

"I'll get you down, and we can look for it together."

Anna shimmied up a little further, swiped at the snowman, missed. Anna only just managed to grab the flagpole after sliding down ten feet. She climbed higher this time. Swung her good hand for Olaf's head. Felt her hand stick. Felt Olaf's head unstick. That was when she slipped, sliding all the way down the flagpole. Landing hard on the tiled roof, knocking several tiles loose, Anna kept sliding, desperately pulling at the rope. She slid off the edge of the roof.

The rope went taut. Anna felt herself swinging backwards. Braced herself for the wall she knew was coming. And was rather surprised to hear a loud crash as her backside collided with an unopened window, breaking the latch. Spinning in mid-air, Anna lost her grip on Olaf.

"Hi Elsa!" Anna was confused. Who was Olaf _really_ talking to.

"Olaf?" That was definitely _Elsa's_ voice. What was she doing outside the castle?

"Anna?" This time Anna heard her sister sigh. That was also when she realized she was no longer outside the castle. She was also no longer alone. Gerda and Kai were in the room as well. They were both trying their best to suppress their laughter. Anna turned slowly, hanging upside down. Elsa appeared to be sitting on a throne made of ice. A very small, modest throne. That had wheels. Like a cart.

"Umm, Elsa, can I, uhh?"

"It's a wheelchair Anna. So I can get around. Stairs are proving to be something of a problem. I didn't know the castle had so many staircases. Ugh," Elsa's sigh of disgust was meant to be silent, but it was sign of just how frustrated she was that it got out. "So, why are you dangling from a rope on the top floor of the castle, throwing snowmen around?"

"Well, I hadn't seen him since yesterday, so I wondered if he was alright, so we—Kristoff's still outside by the way—went looking for him. All over the castle. Umm, sorry I interrupted that meeting earlier. Anyway, Olaf says a horse kicked him up there."

"Suspiciously strong horse," Elsa commented drily.

"It was a really big one," Olaf waved his arm enthusiastically. "I think he liked my nose."

The sisters looked at each other, the same thought forming in both their minds. If it was dark, Olaf could have easily mistaken a particular reindeer for a horse.

"Sven," they said in unison.

"It was definitely a horse. A really big one. Maybe a palace horse. Like the carriages," Olaf was insistent.

"Are you sure, Olaf?" Elsa asked sternly. "Absolutely sure that it was a horse that did this to you?"

Olaf's eyes were suddenly darting left and right. "Umm, maybe."

"Olaf, did you put your head on the snowflake?"

"Maybe…"

"Olaf?"

"Okay, fine. It was an amazing shot. My head was supposed to clear the roof, not hit the flagpole. My butt's probably still down there, waiting for me to land."

Both sisters looked at the snowman, at his tragically chagrined expression. They couldn't help but laugh. It was just too silly. And so, with Olaf, that must be the truth.

"Okay, but princess Anna isn't risking her life to rescue you next time," Elsa looked at the snowman's head sternly. Then she turned her gaze on her sister. "Is she?"

Anna sighed, flopping against the wall. "Fine. But it was fun this time. Kristoff! Haul me up!"

The red-headed princess of Arendelle began to rise through the window, moving somewhat jerkily.

"Next to the flagpole?" Elsa asked.

Anna nodded.

"Gerda, Kai, can you help me get there?" Elsa addressed the servants, already wheeling her chair out under her own strength.

After the events of the day, that evening was a much more serious affair. Mostly due to the fact both sisters had to check in with the castle physician. For the first time in many years, they attended together. The physician inspected Anna's arm first, through the ice.

"Queen Elsa, is it possible to reverse this enchantment?"

"It is. I assume you ask because it is necessary?"

"Yes, very much so. I must see how much damage the sword has done to princess Anna's arm. The bone and blood vessels especially. I need to be able to see them to do my work."

"Anna?" Elsa's voice was soft, almost fearful.

"Do it Elsa," Anna gritted her teeth, steeling herself for the pain that was about to come.

Elsa placed her hands against her sister's arm, one at the shoulder, one just above the elbow. The ice encasing Anna's upper arm slowly faded to nothingness. Anna rubbed the spot absentmindedly, looking away from what she knew was coming next. Elsa passed her hands over Anna's forearm, concentrating on removing just part of the ice. Anna gasped in pain and blood started pouring from the wound.

The physician moved as swiftly as possible, inspecting the wound, cleaning it, extracting fragments of bone. One by one he clamped off the blood vessels. Anna was whimpering, she had fallen against the bed several moments ago. Elsa sat at her side, holding her hand. Elsa hated it, not being able to do more when her sister was in such pain. the physician was tying off the blood vessels, sealing them up. He explained how it was necessary to do it as soon as possible, and how he had wanted to do it the previous night, but apologized for being out on house calls to the townsfolk at the time. All the doctors and physicians Arendelle had were making sure the population of the town was safe and healthy after the temporary winter.

The physician went on and on as he worked, but Elsa tuned him out. Her only concern was Anna. She could see the tears rolling down her sister's cheeks. She couldn't imagine that kind of pain. At last the physician was done, asking Elsa to reenact the enchantment in order to preserve's Anna's arm as much as possible. When she got halfway up Anna's upper arm the physician told her to stop. His work would do the rest, for now.

Elsa pulled her sister into a tight embrace. "That was so brave. Are you okay?"

"I–I'm okay," Anna said shakily, rubbing at the ice encasing her arm. "I hope I never have to do that again."

"I'm afraid you will," the physician was apologetic. "I cannot save your forearm. Your sister's magic has prevented any disease or major blood loss, but it will have to be amputated."

The physician noted the look on Anna's face. Not shock, outrage, or fear, but quiet, sad acceptance.

"But, I guess you knew you would lose the arm. So, we must set a date—soon—for the procedure. And now, Queen Elsa, have you any improvement?"

"No," Elsa sighed. "I can't feel my legs. Anything below my waist really."

"That is a bad sign. If you could lie on the bed there, I will inspect the cut."

Elsa, with some help from a slightly shaky Anna, dragged herself onto the bed, lying face down. Elsa felt Anna undo the lacing of her dress, pulling down the back to let the physician see the cut. Elsa could feel some of what he was doing, poking and prodding at the cut. The physician placed a hand against her leg. Elsa assumed it was her leg from where the shadows fell.

"Queen Elsa, can you feel my hand?"

"No, I cannot."

"Now?"

"No."

"Now?" Elsa got the faintest twinge of feeling near her backside.

"I don't know, maybe?"

"Now?" She could feel that, a hand at the small of her back.

"Yes."

"The blade struck you across the lumbar vertebrae. The cut is remarkably clean, but does not appear especially deep. However, it was obviously deep enough to hit the spinal cord. If it has been severed, you may never walk again, my queen."

Elsa said nothing. She knew something like this had been coming. Had been bracing herself for it. "Anna, can you help me into my chair?"

She didn't bother with fixing her dress. Elsa slid into the chair with as much dignity as she could manage. She was going to get to her room. She was going to get changed. She was going to get into bed. Then she was going to send them all away, to their own rooms.

And then… well… Elsa sighed, not letting her sadness show. Then she was going to cry herself to sleep.

* * *

**AN:** Thanks for all the encouraging reviews so far.

This chapter turned into a bit of a monster, but I'm happy with it for now.


	4. Small Things

It was late, all the lights were out, and Anna was just returning from the upstairs kitchen. She'd needed a glass of water. That was it. At least, that's what she told herself. The fact it gave her an excuse walk past Elsa's door had nothing to with it. She sighed. It had everything to do with it. She thought she heard sniffing on her first walk past. Walking back, she could hear quiet sobs. It wasn't like her sister to cry like that. She knocked on the door.

"Elsa?"

"Go away Anna!"

"No."

"I want to be alone," Elsa sobbed through the door.

"No, you don't," Anna said soothingly. "You just don't want to be a problem."

"No, I just want t—when did you get that smart?"

"I might not be that smart normally, but Elsa, you're my _sister_. I can tell when you're hurting. Even if you don't want me to know."

"I–I can't argue with that."

Anna tried the door. It wasn't locked. Just like the previous night, she sat on the bed next to her sister. Elsa reached up to hug her.

"Elsa, what's really wrong?" Anna asked softly. "Are you still upset about the funeral—about our fight?"

"No," Elsa lied. She was still a little upset by that, but this was something else. "It's just—well, when the physician told me—I–I realized this was going to be permanent. I wouldn't be able to walk again. Ever. I'm going to need so much help Anna. So much. Even for little things."

"Like what, getting dressed?"

"Yes. Getting around the castle, moving past stairs, using the bathroom—"

"Like taking a bath?" Anna wasn't that surprised. "I can see where you might have some problems."

"More than that," Elsa shivered in her sister's arm. "I needed Gerda's help today. I didn't like what we had to do. I'd never ask it of anyone."

"What, like nobody else has to use the bathroom?" Anna was starting to question her sister's grip on reality.

"Nobody else needs help!" Elsa was surprised at just how loud her voice was in the stillness of the night.

"And that's why you're so upset?" Anna couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry Elsa, but really, that just seems silly."

Elsa sighed heavily, leaning into her sister's arm. "It seems small and silly. Until you realize you can't do it anymore. That you'll need help to do it for the rest of your life."

Anna hugged her sister tightly. She didn't have an answer to that.

"One day at a time," Anna whispered to Elsa.

"One day at a time," Elsa repeated. "Anna?"

"Yes?"

"Can you sleep here tonight, please?" Elsa's voice was edged with sorrow and regret. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

Elsa woke at the first knock, rising suddenly. Anna rolled out of bed sideways, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

"Ow," she rubbed her eyes, looking at the wan light streaming in through the window. "What the—dawn?"

"Sorry Anna," Elsa put a hand out to help her sister rise. "I have a lot to do as queen. It always seems to involve paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork."

"I know, but dawn?"

"You could always go back to sleep."

"Not yet. I'll help you get dressed. And everything else. _Then_ I'll go back to sleep."

"Are sure you want to help with '_everything_ else'?"

"Elsa, I'm half asleep. I might be lucky enough to not remember what happens in there. But we're sisters. I'll be here for you."

"Like you always were," Elsa sighed. "I only wish I'd reached out to you earlier. None of this would have happened."

"I wish you had too. I really missed my sister," Anna's voice was sombre, but suddenly perked up. "I had an idea for the stairs. What if you used your magic to make one side a ramp for your chair?"

"I—Huh, that would actually work. It's my magic so I'd never slide across it if I didn't want to."

"See, some of my ideas are actually useful."

"Some," Elsa stuck out her tongue.

"Alright, let's get you dressed and, uh—I guess we undress you first, so you can uh—"

Elsa nodded. "It's easier to use the bathroom when my dress isn't getting in the way. Oh, don't look so shocked."

Some time later Anna was washing her hands, quite thoroughly. "Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"It's still embarrassing—to me," Elsa said quietly.

"You'll have to stop being embarrassed by it someday, Elsa. I mean, I'm sure there are other people like you—uh, in your positi—you know what I mean."

"I know Anna," Elsa laughed. "I can accept this. I can _try_ to accept this. One day at a time. It's okay to tell a few jokes about it—it'll make me feel better, seeing as I don't have a leg to stand on anymore."

"Oh, Elsa, you're terrible. You know that?" Anna failed utterly at concealing her mirth.

"Elsa the Terrible!" Elsa pitched her voice in a dark whisper, sliding back in her chair. "She commands you to get her dressed and presentable for the day. She also wishes to enquire what you would like done about that _thing_ atop your head."

"Hey, leave the hair alone. It's not my fault it gets like that."

"Much," Elsa giggled. "You have no idea how much you toss and turn."

"Okay, back in your chair. We'll get you dressed. How about this lovely pink number," Anna held up a garishly pink nightmare covered in all sorts of lace and ruffles.

"No, no," Elsa crossed her fingers at her sister in mock horror. "_Anything_ but that."

"You could always make yourself another dress. I really liked the one you wore in the ice palace."

"I need something to work with," Elsa explained. "I can't just make fancy clothes out of nothing."

"Technically… you did."

"Oh, please. I made some sleeves and a cape. The dress was already there. I just… embellished it a little. Now will you please help me get dressed into something nice?"

"How about this pastel blue?"

"That one's fine. Would you like to braid my hair after?"

"But you look nice with your hair down like that Elsa."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," Elsa said, struggling into the dress. "I just need to get on with trying to fix Arendelle. Abandoning Weaseltown as a trade partner may have been a touch hasty. The King of France and the royal consort of Spain gave me some intriguing offers before they left. I must inspect them more closely."

"I thought you did that yesterday?" Anna asked, lacing up the back of the dress. "When I kind of interrupted you looking for Olaf."

"I was actually in talks with the ice harvesters guild. And the farmers of Arendelle. People not exactly happy with the little winter I caused. Certain crops were apparently quite damaged, but most could be saved. The ice harvesters don't like the idea of being completely out of work with my magic around here. And what about your ice harvester?"

"Who, Kristoff?" Anna blushed slightly. "We're just friends."

"Sure. Just like Hans," the words were out of her mouth before Elsa could stop them. "No, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. Anna?"

"I learned my lesson. We're taking it slow. I _still_ owe him a sled," Anna's voice was calm, but her hands were a bit rougher than she intended when she started braiding Elsa's hair.

"Talk to one of the master craftsmen of the castle. Tell them it's on the queen's orders. I'm sure they can put something together for you."

"I'll do that," Anna mumbled, yawning. "I think I'll take a nap first though."

The younger woman flopped backwards onto the bed. In seconds she was asleep. Elsa quietly envied how easily her sister could sleep in on days like this.

It wasn't long before Elsa sat behind her desk, in the study. The stacks of paper only seemed to get larger. She could have sworn she dealt with a stack half this size yesterday. Then she saw that Kai had helpfully sorted the piles, and she'd been ignoring his efforts. There were four piles in all: Urgent Business; Business of the Kingdom; Enquiries to your majesty's health; Dislike of your majesty's powers.

Elsa sighed, putting the labels down. Kai's penmanship was immaculate. It hurt that the dislike pile was almost as large as the enquiries pile. It really hurt that the business pile was twice the size of them combined. The urgent pile, thankfully, held only a handful of items. Still, it took Elsa all morning to deal with them. Figuring out what to do with the Jorgenson-Finkelson dispute was the most time consuming. How could two families feud for so long over a single fencepost? Honestly, Elsa didn't care about the dispute. She cared about setting things in order.

"Kai?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Please find Princess Anna. We are going to take a tour of the town."

"Will you need our assistance, Queen Elsa?"

"Thank you Kai, that won't be necessary. You and Gerda may stay in the castle or roam as you wish. I do not expect to return before dinner time."

"You're sure you can keep up with Princess Anna."

"I'm the Queen. I can order her to wait," Elsa smiled. "If it comes to that. I doubt, however, that she will want to leave my side. This will be our first excursion outside the castle—together—since, well, I cannot really remember when Kai."

"I believe you were eight, and she was five. You went sledding with the King and Queen. It was a few days before the accident."

"Thank you Kai, now, if you would kindly fetch my sister?"

"At once, your highness."

As he turned and left, Elsa wheeled her chair to the grand doors at the entrance of the castle, wondering what kind of reception she would get from the townsfolk of Arendelle.

"Hi Elsa. Hey, cool chair. Are we playing outside today?"

"Good morning Olaf," Elsa tried to pull the snowman closer by grabbing an arm. The arm came. The snowman didn't. Elsa grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Olaf."

"It's okay. I didn't know you wanted a piece of me that badly. So, can I come too? Is Anna coming? And Kristoff?"

"Anna's coming with me," Elsa confirmed. "We might see Kristoff, I'm not sure what his plans are. You can come too. I'm sure the children will love you."

"Yay!" Olaf's excitement was infectious. "I'm gonna make so many friends!"

"What are you so excited about Olaf?" Anna asked, stepping behind her sister's wheelchair.

"Elsa said I can come with you guys through the town."

"And she didn't tell me?" Anna moved so Elsa could see her frown. It looked adorable.

"Kai was supposed to tell you."

"He did, I'm just teasing. You might want to put a warning on those stairs."

"It was _your_ idea."

"It was?"

"This morning. When you were helping me get dressed."

"It's kind of a blur honestly. Was it before sunrise?"

"Dawn, just after."

"Honestly, I got nothing," Anna shrugged expressively. "So, where are we going?"

"Just around town. I'm the Queen now. I should have some kind of public presence. I can't stay in the castle all the time."

"I'm proud of you Elsa, this is a big step, getting out of your room to meet people. Moving away from the castle, visiting your loyal subjects. Hey, wait up!"

If Elsa had been pressed to label her visit through the town, she would have called it a whirlwind tour—with Anna doing most of the whirling. They had visited at least twenty different stores and houses. Elsa had talked with at least twice that many people—an exercise that was wearing her out. They were now inside a small but well appointed dressmaker's shop—Handmaidens of Hoeflor.

"And that's how we make such fine dresses," the young seamstress finished explaining.

Anna's eyes took a moment to focus. She had drifted off halfway through the explanation. Elsa took it in her stride. Olaf was trying on some girl's dresses.

"Hmm, very fetching in this little yellow number," he mused quietly. "But ugh, yellow and snow. Not a good combination. Does it come in blue?"

Elsa gave the little snowman a stern look.

"What, I was just asking."

"Olaf, you don't _need_ clothes."

"But they're so much fun."

"I'm sure they are Olaf. Thank you for the lesson, mistress Hoefler. Anna, it's time to go."

The three of them left the shop, Olaf nearly nearly losing his head to the door's backswing. Elsa stopped at the side of the road, folding her hands across her lap. Anna stood behind her, resting her hand against the back of the wheelchair. Both sisters had witnessed the full range of reactions to both their injuries and actions during the short winter. Mistress Hoefler, the seamstress, had been the first one that had just treated them like normal people. Not royalty, just normal people. It was clear that she knew the sisters, knew who they were. Yet she treated them like any other customer. Elsa found it refreshing. Anna found it slightly odd.

"Hi Sven!" The sisters turned to see Kristoff dismounting the reindeer.

"Hi Princess Anna. Queen Elsa. Hello Olaf—not still launching your head over the castle are you?"

"No," Olaf folded his hands behind his back, dragging one foot across the cobbles.

"Good to hear," Kristoff smiled up at Anna. "Queen Elsa, may I borrow your sister for the afternoon?"

"Only if you can promise to bring her back before dinner. And no trolls."

"I just wanted to show her something we found on the way home yesterday."

"Have fun Anna," Elsa waved to her sister.

"You'll be okay, right?" Anna was as concerned as ever for her sister.

"I'll be fine, don't worry. I can use Olaf as a cushion if I fall."

"Hey!" the little snowman was indignant.

"We should probably head back anyway. It'll take me a while to get there."

"I'll see you at dinner," Anna promised as they rode away. "So, my mysterious reindeer king, what did you want to show me?"

Kristoff didn't answer, just spurred Sven to a gallop towards the forest.

"You said no trolls."

"It's just inside the forest. Nowhere near the valley."

Sven had slowed, and they both dismounted at the edge of the trees. Kristoff led Anna by her good hand, muttering something about having seen it before. There it was, sitting in a pile of splinters and twisted strings. Anna grimaced. She'd forgotten about that.

"I have to admit," Kristoff was saying. "It _was_ a brilliant strike. Kind of a pity. I liked that lute."

"I can get you a new one," Anna assured him.

"I don't _want_ a new one. I don't even want that one back."

"Then what do you want?"

"To remind you that you're stronger than you think you are, princess feistypants."

"Really, that's it?"

"Well, yeah, I guess it is," Kristoff leaned back against a tree. Sven nosed next to him and he held the reindeer's snout, making the voice, speaking quietly. "Just tell her how you feel."

"She knows."

"Are you sure, Kristoff?" Kristoff rolled his eyes at the reindeer. "Because she looks kinda confused about why we're here."

"I hate it when you're right," Kristoff sighed, grabbing a carrot for Sven. The reindeer ate half. Kristoff began eating the other half. Anna tried to keep the disgust off her face. Of all the things…

"Can we get back to the castle now?"

Kristoff hauled himself into the saddle. "Sure, climb on."

What was I trying to do? he asked himself. She isn't ready for that yet. You had fun yesterday, exploring the castle. Fun. It wasn't a date. Give her time. That last thought had sounded like Sven.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

Anna was giggling. Mostly because of how red Kristoff's face was becoming.

"To the castle, my valiant, pungent reindeer king!"

Well, it was better than a lot of the other things she could have called him in that moment, Kristoff decided, spurring Sven into a gallop. Elsa was waiting at gates, the very picture of regal grace, hands folded delicately in her lap, hair finely braided, wearing a sparkling blue-white dress. Olaf was skating across the courtyard, oblivious to everything going on around him, a happy smile on his face.

"Wow, Elsa, you look amazing," Anna was deeply impressed. Her sister looked magnificent. "Not trying to impress anyone?"

"No," Elsa's voice was soft, but had the full weight of her authority behind it. "I have made plans for some… activities… after dessert."

"Dessert?" Anna was very tempted to simply tear into the kitchens.

"Involving large amounts of pudding, chocolate, and ice cream."

Sooo tempted. "What's the catch?"

"That we have to spend the evening together. And talk."

"That's not hard. We've been talking every day."

"No, we have to _talk_," Elsa stressed the word very specifically. "About our injuries. What they mean for the future."

Anna closed her eyes. "I don't want to have a talk like that, Elsa."

"We have to," Elsa's tone was conciliatory. "The sooner we face them, the sooner we know what our limits are, the easier it will be to find ways around them."

"We're going to need a lot of chocolate for that kind of talk."

"Which is why I'm not letting you anywhere near the kitchen until then."

* * *

**AN:** Another "day in the life" kind of chapter. I'm not sure I'm portraying everyone correctly (especially Olaf, it's actually harder writing for a so called "simple" character), but I'm trying my best. I don't think I can keep updating at this rate either, or I'm going to just burn out. I think just one more big chapter, then we'll see how quickly I can work from there.


	5. Snow in the Halls

Elsa sat in the middle of the grand hall, snow covering the floor around her. She actually sat on the floor, having taken the time to cross her legs—a surprisingly difficult task given that she only had her hands to do it with, and a tendency to fall over if unsupported. Behind her she had raised a small wall of ice, enough to keep her upright, nothing more. Elsa's hands lay folded in her lap, the picture of regal poise.

Anna sat next to her, to Elsa's right. She was similarly cross-legged, copying her sister's pose—if not her grace—with an ease Elsa found a little disheartening. Much the same we she felt about the rapidly disappearing pile of chocolate between them.

"Anna, seriously. Save some for me."

"Oh, sorry. I'm just nervous."

"But you're not about to run away," Elsa smiled. "You're not like me."

Anna looked at her sister dubiously. "You're about to run away?"

"Metaphorically, Anna. I know you don't _want_ to have this talk."

"Really, it's only the chocolate keeping me here."

"Being able to spend time with your favourite sister doesn't count?" Elsa mocked being hurt.

"You're my only sister, Elsa. I'll never forget that. But, tonight's going to be awkward. Stuff about arms, legs, bathrooms, changing, dresses, Kristoff—wait, what?"

"Oh, it's alright Anna. I know you like him. He likes you too. I doubt you losing your arm is going to change his mind about that."

"And you just _know_ I'm going to lose my arm?"

"Anna, there is _no_ magic still in the kingdom of Arendelle that could heal such an injury," Elsa's tone was firm. "You have to accept that."

"And I do."

"No, Anna, you don't. I can tell by the way you've been acting. As if everything is normal. As if nothing has changed. Ignoring the things you can't do anymore—or shouldn't do. I cannot begin to tell you how dangerous that stunt with the flagpole was with only one arm. You're lucky you didn't land headfirst on the roof. Then I wouldn't have had any sister!"

Elsa's anger was real, but Anna knew it wasn't directed at her. Knew what was really behind it.

"You're afraid one day I won't be there to help you."

"No," Elsa lied. "I'm scared you'll hurt yourself doing something stupid, trying to have too much fun. I'm scared of you dying in some stupid accident. No. I'm scared of _surviving_."

"Why?" Anna's reply surprised Elsa. Was it possible she didn't know?

"I love you Anna," the older sister replied. "Maybe more than you'll ever know."

"You could show it a little more," Anna teased, leaning in for a hug. Elsa wrapped her arms around her sister.

"You're right, I could show it more. Then you wouldn't be able to tease me so much about," Elsa poked out her tongue in a most un-queenly gesture.

"It's more than that, isn't it?" Anna became serious.

"It is," Elsa agreed, resting her chin on Anna's shoulder. "When Hans told me you were dead… when he said it was my fault. I was ready to give up."

"And if I hadn't got to you in time, if you had died because I was too slow, you think that would be any different?"

"Yes. No! I don't know Anna," Elsa trailed off. "I was ready to give up. I didn't _care_ anymore."

"You were…" shock widened Anna's eyes. "No, Elsa, please. Please tell me—you can't think like that. Not—I won't let you!"

"I don't deserve this," Elsa sobbed into her sister's shoulder.

"What, being here? Losing your legs? Having me as a sister?" Anna was a little confused. If this was what the talk was really about, why was she here? Why weren't they sitting on the bed. Again.

"Everything," Elsa whimpered. "You're a good person Anna. You shouldn't be burdened with a sister like me."

Anna stood up so suddenly Elsa hit the snow with a soft thud. The red haired princess of Arendelle then knelt next to her sister, holding out an accusing finger.

"Elsa, don't you ever, ever think like that!" the anger in Anna's voice was very real. It scared Elsa a little—she had _never_ seen her sister this angry about, well, anything. "You are my sister. My beautiful sister. And there's something I want you to know."

Propping her sister up against a snowdrift, Anna began to dance—awkwardly; and sing—beautifully; in the snow.

Repeating words until they're true  
It slows the breathing  
Pretend they never came from you  
It kills the feeling

It's not what I want  
It's wearing you down  
We're back where we started  
No turning around  
You're falling apart  
I'm tearing walls down  
It's not what I want

Before you walk, you'll learn to fall  
Well stop and count to ten  
We'll put your pictures on the wall  
We'll stop and start again

I'm not what you want  
You said what I never could  
You're falling apart  
You said you never would

For always  
Always  
In all ways  
Always

We only go so far  
It's not what I want for you

You're always in my heart  
It's wearing you down  
We're back where we started  
No turning around  
You're falling apart  
I'm tearing walls down  
It's not what I want

Know that I'm here  
Wherever you are  
I'll be in your heart  
I'll stand by your side  
Thaw your heart of ice

For always  
Always  
In all ways  
Always

Anna flopped down next to her sister, wrapping her good arm around Elsa's shoulders.

"I don't care what you _want_ Elsa," Anna's tone was serious but endearing. "I'll be there for you. Always. Because even though you won't admit it, you need my help. And I'll be there to help you, Elsa. Always. Because you're my sister, and I love you."

Elsa said nothing. There was nothing to say. She just sat there and wept. She didn't a deserve a sister so brave and forgiving. So spirited and warm. So… so… so much like Mom.

"Mom would have been so proud of you Anna," Elsa sobbed. "You're a better person than I could ever be."

"You are such a stinker," Anna slapped her sister. "You have no idea how much I looked up to you. Well, when I got to see you. Which wasn't that much to be honest. Sometimes at night, or just after sunrise. I'd be half asleep, and you would steal away through the night. I knew how lonely you must be, locked up in your room all the time. It made me sad, thinking about how much you missed cooped up in there. I mean, I understand why now, but that doesn't make it any less sad. I just wish you'd opened that door. Once. Once would have been enough."

"I was _scared_ Anna. So scared. I was eight. My magic nearly _killed_ you. We rode all night with Papa to take you to the trolls. They saved your life, but to do it they had to take your memories of my magic. That's why you could never remember. It happened right there"—Elsa pointed to a spot on the floor, clear of snow—"you jumped from a huge pile of snow. you kept going higher and higher, completely fearless. I couldn't keep up. I slipped on the ice and fell. The magic hit you in the head."

"And that's why I always had the white in my braid," Anna nodded, half-remembering their discussion a few nights prior. "You already told me all this Elsa. I'm not mad at you. Honestly. It was an accident—don't interrupt—and I wish I'd known. I wanted my sister back so bad. So very badly."

"I–uh, we still need to talk about your arm," Elsa changed the subject. It was getting uncomfortable.

"Mhmm," Anna fixed her sister with a pointed stare. Due to her soft smile it was not nearly as effective as she might have hoped. "Before we talk about that"—Anna surreptitiously stole another chocolate from Elsa's pile, her own having disappeared some time ago—"I want to formally forgive you for nearly killing me all those years ago."

"An-na," Elsa whined, falling back into the snow. "I know you're trying to make me feel better, but it's not your forgiveness I need."

"What, my forgiveness isn't good enough?!"

"Yes! No. No!" Elsa groaned, trying to roll over to bury her face in the snow. Was it possible to make this worse? "Ugh, what did I just say?!"

"Well, you just insulted the royal princess of Arendelle, your only sister, and your friend Anna by implying her forgiveness was not good enough for you."

Just kill me now. Elsa used one arm to roll sideways, pressing her face against the snow. It muffled her scream of outraged annoyance quite well. She knew she deserved everything her sister had just thrown at her. Every word.

"So, your _majesty_," Anna's tone was about as unflattering as it was possible to be without using colourful language. "Why is my forgiveness not good enough?"

"Because it's not mine," Elsa mumbled into the snow. She felt Anna roll her right side up, one eyebrow arched in a silent question. "Because it's not mine."

"Ah. Because it—oh. You can't forgive yourself. Elsa, just _let it go_."

"I can't."

"You can't, or you won't?" Anna's tone was edged with accusation.

"I can't," Elsa repeated. "Not alone."

"Oh you Stinker!" that was fast becoming Anna's favourite epithet for her sister.

Lying there in the snow, practically helpless, Elsa couldn't see much. Which was especially bad as she had just heard Anna laugh. It wasn't her sister's normal laugh either. It had sounded positively machiavellian. That was when four pounds of snow was dropped on her head, temporarily blinding her.

"There," Anna said brightly. "_Now_ we're even."

Brushing away the snow, Elsa couldn't help but laugh. Anna might have no special powers, but to be loved by her was a very special magic indeed. Elsa promised herself she would do her utmost every day to earn that love.

* * *

**AN:** I'm not sure I got it quite right, but I loved showing the sisters bonding in this scene. As to the lyrics, they're lifted from Always, by The Birthday Massacre, and re-purposed to suit my needs. Right here: (YouTube) watch?v=v8TBkbFk-n4  
Also, that video will hit you right in the feels.


	6. Night Time Rituals

Sitting up, brushing snow from her shoulders, Elsa shook with laughter.

"That wasn't very fair," she moaned.

"So?" Anna grinned, laughing heartily. "You nearly killed me."

"You think that's enough to break the spell?" Elsa's voice was serious, but one arm was surreptitiously rolling together a large ball of snow. Anna never saw it coming.

"Cold. Cold cold. Elsa, really?"

Elsa only laughed in reply, until a snowball hit her in the side of the head. It hadn't occurred to her to track Anna's movements. Now she had no idea where her younger sister was. Another snowball hit her from behind. There was a soft crunching of snow underfoot. Elsa braced herself, then had a better idea.

"Put the snowball down, or the chocolate gets it!" Elsa dangled the chocolate over her tongue. The snowball knocked the chocolate from her grasp. The rest of it plastered her face. "Real mature."

"You were threatening my chocolate."

"You ate all of those well before the talk got started. A talk we still haven't had properly."

"A talk I don't really want to have."

"Oh sit down. We're going to have this talk. And we're going to behave like responsible adults."

"And if I refuse—hey, no fair," Anna squealed in surprise as the snow wrapped her feet and dragged her down next to Elsa.

"We're going to have this talk, Anna. I know you don't want to. You think you know what losing your arm means, but you don't."

"And why don't I?"

"Because while you can accept it on an intellectual level, you haven't accepted it on an emotional level, a personal level. You're still treating the world as if nothing's changed. Something has."

"And why should I limit myself because of that?" Anna's tone was inflammatory.

"Because if you don't, you're going to get _hurt_. And I won't be able to help you."

"Like you helped me so much in the past!" Anna regretted those words as soon as she said them.

"I wasn't there for you then, but you were always there for me. I'm not making that mistake again Anna. I'm going to make it up to you," Elsa sighed. "Somehow. And I don't want you to limit yourself. Your courage always inspired me. You were never afraid to take on any new challenges. You tried so hard at everything, even if you failed. You always tried. You don't know how amazing you are, Princess Anna of Arendelle. What I want you to realize is that things are different now. There are things we can't do anymore. Some on our own, some of them together. You said 'one day at a time'. You have to live it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you have to realize your injury, losing your arm, is going to change what you are capable of. But it's not going to change you. Even Hans's betrayal hasn't changed you—oh, sure, you're a little wiser now, but you're still the same brave, spirited, wonderful girl that was always my sister."

"Okay, I guess. Does this mean I have to change? Should I change? What is losing my arm supposed to mean?" Anna was going through a complex flurry of emotions, not sure which to put forward first.

"No, of course not Anna. You don't have to change. Well, not much. You just have change your ideas about what you can and can't do safely. Like riding bikes down halls and staircases."

"You knew?" Anna was quite surprised.

"Of course I knew. You were lucky you didn't break anything. Well, aside from that suit of armour. At least, that's what Papa said when he told me."

"He would be proud of you Elsa. You might not see it now, but you got all his authority and strength. His wisdom too, I think."

Elsa smiled, accepting the compliment. "And that's why I asked to have this talk tonight. So we can talk about Mama and Papa, about being mothers, having fathers. Children. Or…"

"Or what, Elsa?" Anna's voice grew heavy with concern. It wasn't like her sister to trail off like that if she was saying something important.

"I was talking with the castle physician. I know Mama wasn't much older than I am when I was born. I asked about having a family of my own…" Anna could see the tears forming in her sister's eyes when she finished speaking.

"Oh, Elsa," Anna shook her head, pulling Elsa into the tightest embrace she could manage with one arm. "Is this what you really wanted to talk about?"

"Your arm was first," Elsa sniffed. "I had to make sure you understood how important your safety was to me. How important it's always been."

"So the physician said you can't have a family, ever?" just like Anna to cut straight to the heart of the matter.

"Not exactly," Elsa explained slowly. "He said that I might bear a child. _A_ child. _One_."

"Why only one?"

"Because, he says that other women like me, those that didn't have children, often died giving birth. Something goes wrong."

"What aren't you telling me, Elsa?"

"He also said," Elsa sobbed. "That less than one in ten of those children survives. The number of mothers that survive is even less. Anna, I can _never_ have my own family."

"You have me," Anna squeezed her sister tight. "It's not the same, I know."

"It's more than that Anna. Something you would never want to do to anyone."

"Something I would never—Elsa, what is it?"

"I can never have a family of my own. The royal line would end with me, Anna. My days as queen are numbered. The laws are quite simple. As soon as you become a mother—because I have no heirs of my own—you inherit the throne, and become queen. Your family line will be stronger than mine. And if I try to have a family, if I have an heir—what if she has my powers?"

"Why would that be such a problem?"

"What if she has my powers," Elsa elaborated. "And I'm _not there_."

"You tell _me_ 'one day at a time'," Anna groaned, flopping back in the snow. "And here _you_ are, thinking of families and succession."

"Because it's important, Anna. We have to be prepared to deal with these things."

"Really, right now, just after dessert?" Anna was skeptical. "Okay, maybe I did need a talking to about my arm. But everything else, couldn't it have waited… oh… a few years before you dumped it all on me? I mean, not that I'm accusing you of doing this deliberately to try and make me more responsible or anything, but, really, it couldn't wait?"

Elsa flopped back in the snow with her sister, little snowdrifts falling between them. "Maybe. I guess it wasn't very nice of me to spring that on you right now. I just—well, I just needed to get it off my chest. I needed somebody who understood what it all meant."

"Umm, about that…"

"I know Anna. You don't have to understand it all right now. As long as you know it's going to be on my mind for a while. It'll be on my mind, and I need someone to talk to about it."

"Gerda, Kai?" Anna teased.

"Really, you'd have me bother the staff with problems of this magnitude?" Elsa sprinkled snow on her sister's face. Anna sneezed.

"Well, honestly, no," Anna's voice turned introspective. "I guess you don't have any friends to talk to about it either. It's only me. Well, I guess you could tell Olaf."

"I can see _that_ going well."

"Yeah," Anna agreed idly. "So, the physician said I have to set a date for the operation soon?"

"The sooner, the better, in his opinion. Your forearm can't be saved, but he doesn't want frostbite claiming the rest of your arm."

"Did he say what has to be done?"

"He explained some of it," Elsa swallowed audibly. "From what I got, it's going to hurt. A lot. You'll probably faint, several times. Then they've got to stitch the flesh over the stump, cover it in bandages so it can heal."

Anna shivered. "Elsa, when it's time, will you be there?"

"I–yes. Yes. No matter what happens, I'll be there for you."

"Thank you Elsa. I mean it."

"I know. You're a good friend—and a better sister. Can you help me back into my chair?"

"Umm, Elsa, where did—oh," Anna looked around for the wheelchair before she noticed Elsa conjuring it from the air. Helping her sister into the chair, Anna started talking again. "If the physician agrees, I'll have the operation tomorrow."

"Anna, you shouldn't make the decision so hastily. You still have a few days."

"No, Elsa. If I don't make a decision now, I might not make it at all. And that really won't help anyone," Anna spoke casually as she wheeled Elsa up the ice ramp to the first floor.

"I can't argue with that," Elsa shook her head. "I should, but once you've made up your mind, I know what you're like."

"What I'm like?" Anna stopped short, the wheelchair rolled another few inches.

"It was a compliment. Really. Your determination to see things through."

"Okay. Do you need anything before bed Elsa?"

"Well… I'll need help getting changed, and, uh, getting ready for bed."

"Elsa, you don't need to be embarrassed about asking for my help with that."

"It's just—it feels awkward. I guess I'm starting to know how you felt all those years locked up with just me and the servants for company."

"Awkward… well, that's one way of putting it. And just to be sure, is there anything else you want help with?"

"I–I would like to take a bath. And wash my hair. I think I can manage on my own, but in case anything happens I—"

"Of course Elsa. It's fine. I mean, it might be a little awkward, but I meant what I said. I'm not what you want. Umm, ah, well, what I didn't say. I'm not what you want, 'cause I'm what you _need_ right now."

Elsa turned her head so Anna could see her smile. So warm and grateful. Elsa wished she'd reconnected with her sister long ago. She sighed, hoping Anna wouldn't catch the sound. She was _still_ beating herself up about that. One day, eventually, she might be able to forgive herself for that. One day at a time, Elsa silently promised herself, happy that this day was drawing to a close.

Sitting in the bath, Anna on the outside, helping to keep her upright, Elsa ran her hands through her platinum hair. It was starting to get tangled again, but that was a minor issue.

"Elsa?"

"Yes Anna?"

"I was wondering about your magic—have you tried using it to help you walk?"

"I _tried_," Elsa stressed the word heavily. "I couldn't make it work. I'm not sure why. And I obviously can't work the magic through my legs anymore either—you remember how I ran across the fjord."

It had had sounded like Elsa was going to say more, so Anna just nodded. Whatever else Elsa might have said, Anna never found out, her sister was holding back again. Elsa pretended to be concentrating deeply on untangling her hair, but Anna knew there was something she wasn't saying. Something about her run across the fjord. Probably still feeling guilty for it.

"So, how is this going to work?" Anna decided to change the subject. "How are you going to get dry?"

"With a towel, of course," Elsa grinned, glad her sister wasn't pressing the issue of the fjord and the midnight run. "I guess I'll sit on the edge of the bath, and you just make sure I don't fall back in while I towel myself dry. Then you help me get my nightclothes on. Again."

"El-sa," Anna whined playfully, imitating their mother's tone. "When are you going to learn to dress yourself?"

Elsa laughed. It was a reminder of her new limits, but the delivery was perfect. Anna definitely had her mother's sense of humour.

"Anna, I'm done. Can you help me out please?"

"You know, this is kind of difficult with only one arm," but Anna smiled as she said it.

"But you have enough strength in that arm for at least three people. I've seen you climbing around the castle."

"Are you trying to warn me or compliment me there Elsa?" Anna helped Elsa sit upright at the edge of the bath, pulling the plug to empty it.

"Both, I guess," Elsa said softly, wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

It was awkward, more so for Elsa than her sister, with Anna's strength to hold her up as she dried herself off. The problem was all the movement, and Anna needing to shift her position several times to keep her sister balanced. Quite a few times her hand wound up touching parts of Elsa that Anna was sure her sister would object too. Or maybe she does object, Anna considered, but is masking her discomfort really, really well.

It wasn't long before Elsa was dressed and ready for bed. Anna wheeled Elsa back to her own room. Elsa put a hand out to tug at Anna's sleeve, the gesture surprising the younger girl, forcing her to stop.

"Is something wrong Anna?"

"No, no, I just… you reached out for me. You've been doing it in your sleep a bit—that, or stretching lots while you sleep."

"Well, I was just thinking…"

"Thinking about what?"

"If you wanted, we could share a room again."

"I'd love to Elsa, but… well, I'd have to wake up around dawn every day. I love you, Elsa. A lot—but not enough to be woken up at dawn every day for the rest of my life. There are limits to what I'll do for you."

"So you'll help me move around the kingdom, you'll help me take a bath, you'll even help me find reasons to love myself," Elsa ticked these off on her fingers. "But you won't wake up before noon to help your crippled older sister?"

"Nice try with the guilt trip," Anna knelt in front of her sister and smiled. "And it's only nine in the morning. Ten sometimes. Our schedules would be so different, what with you running the kingdom, and me doing, uhh, princess stuff. I'd love to share a room again, but I think it might not work for too long. I'll still be right there down the hall, I'll hug you to chase away the bad dreams, I'll keep you safe and sound."

"You're sure?"

"Plus, I kinda like the way I've decorated my room. Yours is a little bland."

"Hey!"

"Plus, after the operation on my arm, I don't think it's going to be a good time for me."

"Anna, I want to be there for you."

"You will be. If it gets bad, I can find you. I've been strong on my own for so long because I had to be. It's part of me not changing. Maybe it's not the smart choice, but it's my choice."

Elsa was just rolling through the door to her room. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Okay. I respect your choice Anna, just… just… please don't push me away. Like I kept doing to you."

"I won't," Anna promised. Because I know you'll be there for me this time, she added silently. Because I can see how hard you're trying to change.

"If you change your mind—" Elsa spoke through the now closed door.

"I know where to find you. Maybe one day. It would be nice."

Dragging herself into bed, Elsa considered other reasons her sister might not want to share a room anymore. Her tired mind could only think of one—Kristoff. And frankly, Elsa didn't—couldn't—blame Anna for that. If she herself ever found anyone, Elsa was sure she wouldn't want to share a room with her sister either.

Elsa found herself holding Anna's left hand, her sister lying flat on a strange bed, the castle physician operating on her arm. His hands were bloody, and Anna was very pale. Elsa shivered when she saw the bonesaw. She looked away, but Anna squeezed her hand tight. There was so much blood. Elsa couldn't understand it. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She realized Anna was dying. Dying in her arms. It couldn't happen this way. Not again.

The scream woke Anna from a deep sleep just after midnight. It had come from Elsa's room. It sounded positively terrifying. Anna rushed through the halls, tried to open Elsa's door. Failed. She heard a quiet sobbing coming from inside, and deep, ragged breaths. Anna tried the door again. The handle was so cold it almost burned. She tried slamming into the door with her left shoulder. A slight crunch as she rebounded from the door.

Again. Anna backed off and slammed into the door full tilt. There was a crash like glass breaking, and suddenly she was skidding across an icy floor. Fractal patterns of ice covered the walls. Snow fell lazily from a cloud near the ceiling. Anna gasped in shock. Elsa's control had been so much better.

When she was awake.

Elsa was half out of the bed, curled into a ball, her legs sticking out awkwardly, sobbing uncontrollably. Anna knelt down, helped her sister to sit up, brushed the hair out of her face. Elsa didn't seem to register what was happening.

"Anna?" her voice was strangely disbelieving.

"Elsa," Anna looked around with no small degree of fear. A wave of icicles had been driven into one wall. Something was very wrong. "Elsa, I'm here. It's okay."

"I'm scared Anna. I watched you die. You died in my arms. Something was wrong—so much blood. You were—you…" Elsa's breathing became rapid and shallow. "I'm scared."

Anna hugged her sister tight, trying to remember Mama's words of wisdom. "It's okay to be scared Elsa. Just don't let it change who you are."

Elsa frowned quizzically at her sister. "So I–It was–Did I do this?"

"You were asleep," Anna soothed her sister, shivering. "I think. It must have been a nightmare or something. It's freezing in here."

Taking a deep breath, Elsa tried to calm herself. Tried to concentrate on the good. To stay in the moment. The snow began to evaporate, the cloud overhead swirling away to nothingness. The ice on the floor and walls stayed. The icicles shrank slightly in the moonlight. Elsa took another deep breath, exulting in the warmth of her sister's embrace, trying to spread that through the room. The ice on the walls retreated, the ice on the floor shrank. Elsa breathed out in relief. It was still possible to unfreeze things.

"I'm okay," Elsa's breathing was steady, even. "I'll be okay, Anna. You can go back to your room if you want."

Anna sat on the bed, arm wrapped around her sister, wavering. If she went back, she could get a good night's sleep. Wouldn't have to wake up early. If she stayed it would comfort Elsa. She could get to know her sister better; her worries, her fears. She could find a way to make things better. Anna fluffed the pillows, made sure Elsa was comfortable. It wasn't a hard decision really. She left.

By the time she got back, Elsa was sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling with relaxed breathing. Anna spread out the blankets, the pillow, and found something to use as earplugs. She was not getting up at the crack of dawn again. Not two days in a row. Anna sighed, rolling over onto her good arm, and closed her eyes.

* * *

**AN:** Another big one (well, for me). I think it might be a bit rambling, but there's lots of stuff to set up for here. I need to keep people guessing.


	7. Freedom & Responsibility

Two knocks awoke Elsa. It was early morning, somewhat past dawn. She rolled over, trying to sit up. Remembered she couldn't. Dragging herself upright, Elsa thought she heard a snore. Sliding to the side of the bed, Elsa saw her sister lying on the floor in a nightmarish tangle of blankets and hair. She tried her best to suppress a laugh. Despite the awkwardness of Anna's pose, Elsa could tell her sister was sleeping soundly.

"Gerda," Elsa spoke to the door, already knowing who had knocked. "Come in, please. We'll try not to disturb Anna too much."

"At once, queen Elsa," Gerda spoke quietly, closing the door softly behind her. "You need help in the same way as last time?"

"Yes Gerda, I do–I…"

"You have no reason to worry," Gerda assured the queen. "What happens here, never leaves this room. It would not do for the people of Arendelle to know just how badly Hans crippled their queen."

"Thank you Gerda. Really. Thank you. I know I have no right to ask this of you."

"Hush, my queen. I am a royal servant. As the royal family fares, so do I. You have every right to ask me. Just understand that this is discomfiting for any servant—to see their mistress in such a state, much less their queen. Both Kai and myself feel as if we have failed your mother and father, allowing you to be injured so."

"You didn't allow anything to happen Gerda," Elsa spoke calmly and quietly as Gerda helped her undress. She was trying not to disturb Anna. "You and Kai aren't responsible for what happened to me—or to Anna. The blame lies squarely with Hans… and perhaps myself."

"This was never your fault," Gerda soothed. "And we know it is not ours either. We remember the king and queen very well. We try not to think of what seeing this happen would have done to them. We do not always succeed."

"I–I'm sorry," Elsa mumbled, not sure exactly why she was apologizing.

"Do not worry yourself, queen Elsa. There are those who have done more for you than you know. Who would do it again, and still give of themselves. People such as Kai's brother, who cares for their father—their father who lost his legs in terrible accident during the great storm, nearly fifteen years ago. He offered to help you, your majesty. Kai politely declined on your behalf."

Elsa smiled, considering briefly what help from Kai's brother—or even Kai, might be like. The only thing she could think of was that it would be a lot more awkward than getting help from Gerda. Or Anna.

By mid-morning Elsa already felt spent. It was just something about the ever-growing pile of paperwork on her desk. She dealt with it as fast as she could, but there was always more the next day. It was entirely possible that the paperwork was somehow breeding. Given some of the byzantine laws Elsa had discovered the previous day, it didn't seem quite that ludicrous. A knock at the door shook her from her daydreams.

"Kristoff?" the ice harvester was standing in the doorway, looking a little unsure of himself.

"Have you seen Anna?" he asked suddenly. "There's something I want to show her. Just quickly."

"It's okay Kristoff," Elsa assured him. "I know. I don't think Anna has quite figured out where she stands with you however. She's always been so sure of everything. It's somewhat surprising. But if you hurt her—"

"Actually, I'm more afraid of princess feistypants herself," Kristoff shrugged.

"Hi Kristoff. Hi Elsa. Wow, that's a lot of paper. Is that a mailbox?"

"Good morning Olaf," Elsa waved the snowman over. "Yes, it is a lot of paper. It's not a mailbox—it's my work."

"Wow. You must work really hard."

Elsa sighed. "I do. But there's always more. Olaf, can you find Anna?"

"Of course. Why, do you need her for something?"

"Hi," Kristoff waved at the snowman.

"Oh. _Oh_. Right. I'll find Anna. Bye Kristoff. Bye Elsa."

Several minutes later there came an almighty crash from the grand hall. Kristoff raced from the door, Elsa swiftly wheeling her chair behind him. Olaf's head rolled past, chased by his clumsy lower body. His torso was missing.

"Oh, look, I've gone to pieces. Somebody stop me before I get away—oh." Olaf giggled as his lower body bounced from the door at the end of the hall and skidded over backwards.

Elsa looked back through the great hall. One rogue snowman could not cause such devastation. Three suits of armour collapsed and spread across the hall. Ceremonial weapons embedded in walls. Braids sticking out of a helmet. Bright, orange braids. A groan echoed from within the helmet. Elsa had no idea how, but her sister was wearing more than half the armour from the three destroyed suits. She rushed over, halting her chair beside the pile of parts, tossing aside those she could reach.

"Anna, have you gone completely insane?!"

"I slipped," Anna's voice echoed from the helmet as she turned it right way round. "Really. I was following Olaf and… how did his arms get all the way up there?"

Elsa followed her sister's gaze. One of Olaf's arms was holding his torso to a wooden buttress, halfway to the ceiling. The other arm was crawling out of the pile of armour. Elsa looked at Anna expectantly.

"You slipped…"

"On your ice ramp. I was—"

"You were trying to use it as a slide, weren't you?" Elsa cut her sister off sternly. Her voice softened. "Anna, I just… I'm worried about you. I worry about you."

"I know you care Elsa," Anna rose slowly, extricating herself from the armour. "I see that every day. You're trying to be a better sister to me. A better person to the world. And it's working. It's just awkward—I mean I'm awkward, you're you. We're not the same as… ugh."

Anna gave up trying to articulate her thoughts. Maybe her slide into the armour had been a little reckless. Elsa hadn't seemed that mad though, more… concerned. Like a parent.

"Please, Anna, just try to be careful," Elsa tried helping her sister up. "I mean, I don't want to hold you back from having you own life, from enjoying the good times. But I also don't want to see you get hurt. I want to protect you, keep you safe."

Elsa didn't say 'to make up for nearly killing you. Twice,' but Anna heard it anyway. She patted her sister on the shoulder.

"If you're finished trying to save me for today—uh, why is Kristoff here?"

The ice harvester waved at her.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Elsa pushed her sister towards the young man, enjoying watching her blush.

"I–uh, okay. I should probably do that. Like, now. Right?" Anna turned to her sister for guidance. Elsa motioned her forwards. "Hi Kristoff, uh, why are you here today—I mean, not that there's anything wrong with you being here, and I'm just a little clumsy and the mess and did Olaf say you wanted to show me someth—am I talking to fast?"

"There is something I'd like to show you," Kristoff confirmed. "But it can wait. I really just came by to see if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be oka—oh," Anna was beginning to see something new about the ice harvester. She still wasn't sure what it meant. What it meant to her. Her relationship with Elsa. Life around the castle. It was—well, she didn't really have words to describe it. Happily confused seemed about right though.

"I thought we could take a picnic in the fields across the fjord. Olaf could come too, if you like."

"But not the queen?" Elsa asked, mock-imperiously.

"I–I just assumed you'd be too busy doing, uh, umm, queen stuff to bother with a picnic with a simple ice harvester."

Elsa laughed. "Too busy for a simple ice harvester, yes. You saw all that paperwork"—Elsa waved in grandiose fashion towards the study—"but for the man who saved my sister's life. Who cared for my sister after I froze her heart. The man who kept her safe from me, who rode across a fjord to try and—I've never thanked you properly for everything you've done. I don't know if I can."

"Of course you can," Kristoff winked. "You're the queen. You can do anything you want."

"No, I really can't," Elsa shook her head. "Even a queen has limits. Like how much paperwork she can handle before lunch. I need to talk to a craftsman."

"While you're at it," Kristoff added slyly. "How about a new sled?"

"What?"

"Princess feistypants here is kind of the reason my old one fell off a cliff," there was a long pause. "And exploded."

Anna nodded, confirming the story, then shook her head, making a subtle hand gesture only Elsa could see.

"I can't."

"One small sled, with all the royal craftsmen, and you can't make one?" Kristoff was incensed. "Just one sled, for the man who saved your sister's life. You can't manage that?"

Anna slapped the ice harvester. "Don't talk to the queen like that. And never talk to my sister like that again. It's not your place to question her motives."

"Ow. Fine, fine. But, something?"

"Not a sled," Elsa spoke calmly. She knew Anna wanted to surprise him, but didn't know the right time. Elsa knew she would have to give the ice harvester something truly meaningful as a mark of how much they both owed him. A title, perhaps. "When you and Anna return, this afternoon. Your 'something' will be ready."

"So, a picnic," Anna quickly changed the subject. "You, and me?"

"And Sven, or we'd never get there in time. And Olaf, if you want."

"Olaf, would you like to come on a picnic?"

"A picnic?" Olaf asked, finally putting himself together again. His torso had taken some coaxing to release its grip on the buttress. "A picnic in summer?"

"Yes, Olaf. A picnic in summer."

"Oh boy, this is going to be so much fun!" Olaf tripped over himself in his excitement. "I'll lie there in the sun, getting tanned, and you'll be there, and Sven will be there. Oh it's going to be so much fun."

And it was. For the first ten minutes. The hills overlooking the fjord, no longer covered in snow, were a beautiful backdrop to what was quickly turning into a disaster, the blanket tangled in Sven's antlers, Olaf fleeing for his life, and a single carrot rocketing down the hill. Kristoff was being dragged behind Sven, his foot caught in the reindeer's harness. Anna was chasing behind everyone, trying to keep up.

How could a simple picnic go so wrong? she asked herself. She actually had a feeling it had to do with her presence. Or possibly Olaf's. Recently both of them seemed prone to having bad things happen all around them. Anna slowed, stopped, resting her hand against her thigh, her right arm hanging like a weight. The others were too far ahead to continue pursuit. She would have to wait until they got back.

Five minutes later, they were back, everyone exhausted, but somewhat less tangled up in various picnic items. Kristoff laid the blanket down again, then tossed a carrot to Sven. The reindeer ate the whole thing.

"Uh-uh, share," the ice harvester admonished his mount. The reindeer dropped half a carrot in Kristoff's lap. Kristoff picked it up and took a bite. Anna shuddered. No matter how many times she saw that, it was… no, she told herself. Just no.

"I was wondering," Kristoff spoke idly, lying back on the blanket and staring at the sky. "Do you need any help around the castle? Does Elsa?"

"Of course we need help," Anna spoke honestly. "There's so much work, and only a handful of servants—not that you're meant to be a servant—but I mean, it's a big castle, and there's not many of us, and Elsa has this thing about people helping, and she said she—no, I said she wouldn't—anyway, yes, we need help. But I don't want your help."

Anna's face turned bright red, and she rolled face down on the blanket. Why couldn't she say things right around Kristoff. What was wrong with her?

"Wow," Kristoff replied finally. "Like that doesn't hurt or anything."

"No, I mean, I don't want your help because you're too good. I don't want you to think we're relying on you, using you just because we can. You're not that important—wait, what?"

"Not… that… important," the ice harvester repeated slowly. "Good to know."

"That's not what I meant!" Anna slammed her fist against the ground. "I mean, I think you're important, just not that way. You're meant to be more than that. I want you to be more than that. I don't want to share you, and I—"

"You don't want to share me?" Kristoff was now very confused. He knew Anna had some issues with finding the right words, or any words at times, but this was new.

"Okay, I admit it. I want you all to myself. Happy?"

"I guess. Should I be happy?"

"I don't know—hey, where did Olaf and Sven go?"

"No idea," Kristoff managed to lie quite convincingly. The quiet counting from behind a small rock gave up the game. As did the antlers sticking out the other side.

"Why do you want to be alone with me?" Anna asked, suddenly serious.

"Because I want to know you, Anna. Know what you're like. What you love. What you're afraid of. Why you never gave up on your sister. Why it is you can't figure out what we have."

"I–I don't know what we have," Anna answered. It was the honest truth. She had no idea what her relationship with Kristoff actually was at this point in time. "But I love chocolate, and I'm afraid of Elsa shutting me out again. I never gave up on her because she's my sister—the only one I'll ever have. And like I said, I can't figure out what we have, because I don't know what it is—was this meant to be a date?"

"Maybe," Kristoff changed the subject abruptly. "We should head back. Lunch was nice, but I want to know what Elsa got for me."

"It's not that late," Anna countered, stretching out under the sun. "And I have something for you too, when we get back."

Anna couldn't remember much of the picnic by the time they got back to the castle. They had just lain in the sun—it was a glorious day—and talked. That was it. That was enough. She was starting to understand Kristoff, starting to understand her feelings for him. The ice harvester was rougher, cruder, and less personable than Hans. Anna didn't count those as major problems however, for two reasons. First, Kristoff was honest—at least as honest as it was reasonably possible for a person to be. Secondly, Kristoff didn't have any devious plans, ulterior motives, or hidden agendas. He was exactly what he told you he was. Much like Anna herself.

"Put this on," Anna handed Kristoff a blindfold as they neared the castle. "I have a surprise for you."

Anna was nearly skipping through the streets of Arendelle, leading Kristoff by the hand. She was surprised how willing he was to trust her judgement.

Clang. "Ow. Pole."

"Sorry," Anna apologized, wincing, impressed Kristoff didn't try to remove the blindfold—or let go of her hand. In moments they had arrived at their destination. Anna let his hand fall, helping remove the blindfold. She stepped aside, holding her arm out to indicate he should be looking at what she was pointing at.

A magnificent sled, painted dark blue with mahogany trim. A stylized snowflake was painted on the front. A single bow decorated the front. A matching bow wrapped the lute sitting against the backrest. Kristoff's jaw dropped.

"It's the latest model and everything. It even has cup holders. That's good, right?" Anna asked excitedly.

"I–I can't," Kristoff stammered. So this was why Elsa had refused to grant him a new sled—because Anna already had.

"You have to. Queen's orders," Anna's stern voice became much more mellow. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? I _love_ it!" Kristoff swept Anna off the ground and twirled her around as he spoke. "I could kiss you! I could. I mean, I'd like to. I–may I? We me? I mean, may we—wait, what?"

"We may," Anna reached up to plant a kiss on the ice harvester's cheek. Just seeing him happy made her feel much better—although she honestly hadn't been feeling bad, she just felt… better. Kristoff leaned down, brushing his lips against Anna's. The redheaded princess relaxed into the kiss. She felt warm inside, kind of fuzzy. Better overall. Was this what love was supposed to feel like?

They broke apart awkwardly several moments later. Kristoff was blushing slightly. "I–I guess I owe you an apology for this morning. You and the queen."

"Me and _Elsa_," Anna corrected.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk this morning. I should have known better. I just—uh, I really need a sled, or my business goes nowhere."

"We knew it was important to you," Anna assured the ice harvester. "That's why we asked the master craftsmen to make this their priority for the past few days. They still had things to repair all over the place, but this was more important. _You_ were more important. There, I said it—wait, what?"

"_I_ was more important?" Kristoff was still a little confused. It was clear now that Anna liked him—the feeling was of course mutual. It wasn't clear quite how much she liked him, or even if she knew herself. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn't asked that question. "Actually, never mind. I'm important to you, you're important to me. That's what matters, right?"

Anna nodded, glad the conversation hadn't suddenly devolved into another series of her verbal gaffes. She didn't have a lot of friends to talk to, or to tell her not to talk. Or what not to say in front of guys she really liked. She'd learned a few things over the past week though, especially through Hans's treachery, and Kristoff's awkwardly blunt honesty. An honesty she found quite endearing.

"If I'm going to apologize to the quee—to Elsa, I'll need to get into the castle."

"Oh, right. Wait, how _have_ you been getting in?"

"Your servants, mostly. I simply ask if the queen has time for an audience—or if you're available to speak with. I think they like the idea of having more people around the castle. Especially people who aren't trying to kill Arendelle's queen, and her beautiful, feisty sister."

"Um, uh, thanks," Anna blushed slightly, then started walking away. Kristoff stood there. "Aren't you coming?"

The ice harvester hurried to catch up. They eventually found Elsa buried in a massive pile of paperwork, rime ice coating the edges of the desk, the windowsill, and most of the skirting boards.

"Anna, Kristoff!" Elsa's smile was disproportionately warm. "Thank the heavens you're here. I can't do this. All this, this… paperwork. It's driving me mad. I thought I could handle it, delegate some of the more minor issues to Kai and… oh, it's a royal mess. I need help Anna. I really do."

Anna stared at her sister, uncomprehending.

"Obviously not the real Elsa," Kristoff whispered. "I'll distract her, you run."

Anna just stood there. One arm hanging limp, the other a dead weight. She was completely expressionless. Had her sister just asked for help—_her_ help—_to run the kingdom?_ Asked for help in front of another person, no less. Slowly, as the frost in the room gradually retreated, it dawned on her, and Anna realized just how much responsibility had been laid across her sister's shoulders. The frost covering the desk should have been the giveaway that Elsa was losing it, even just a little.

"How did Papa _ever_ manage all this?" Elsa asked hopelessly, throwing her arms wide. "It's impossible. I've tried everything, but the paper just keeps coming back. I think they're breeding overnight. Or something. Anna—Anna, are you listening?"

"Oh, uhm, you're losing it because of _paperwork?_"

"And the visits, and disputes to settle. Families to greet," Elsa sighed. "And I thought the number of people at the coronation ball was bad enough. At least two dozen people come through this office every day, looking for help, to settle feuds, asking about work, making enquiries about my condition, offering up some very creative insults for severely damaged crops, or buildings, or other things my storm battered. And I'm scared Anna, afraid of losing control. What if someone actually makes me angry? What if I snap? Again. I'm trying to keep everything in check, to keep my powers under control—but not trying to hide them anymore—but it's hard. Harder than I thought it would be. There's so much pressure to do right, to be right, to be—perfect. And I'm not. I'm just… me."

Anna walked over to her sister, perched on the edge of the desk, eliciting an angry sigh from Elsa as a stack of papers toppled sideways.

"You're just you…" Anna almost laughed. "I mean, it's not funny, but there's no 'just' about you Elsa. You're incredible. Smart. Beautiful. Kind. Loyal. What's so scary anyway? I'm sure you wouldn't hurt anyone. Again. And, oh… I see where this is going. You need to—I think you should—We, _we_, need to hire some people to help us. I know Papa didn't rule alone—he had Mama, and they had Gerda and Kai to look after us when they weren't around, and the nanny, and the other servants to help them, and—I'm talking too much again. Elsa?"

Elsa sighed heavily, trying to banish the last of the ice. It wasn't playing nice. "You're right Anna, we need help. I—well, you know I have problems asking for help. I don't want to seem weak in front of you, in anyone's eyes really. I need to be strong to be the queen, firm, yet kind, capable of anything. Maybe not the best phrase, considering what 'anything' did to the fjord. But you're right, absolutely. We need help. I need help to save the kingdom of Arendelle from what I've done—cutting trade with Wesealtown has hurt us financially, and sending Hans back to the Southern Isles as prisoner may come back to bite us, but what's done is done. Now we all have to live with the consequences."

"You stinker," Anna waved an admonishing finger at her sister. "Here I am, having helped you for the last three days, through everything, and you _still_ think you _have_ to do this all alone. If you'd just told me you were having problems like this, I'd help."

"But you hate paperwork. You kept saying you'd be terrible at running a kingdom. And you hate being bored, and most of this paperwork is very, very boring. I mean some of it is sending _me_ to sleep, just trying to read it."

"If you need help, I'm here for you," Anna explained patiently. "I meant it. Whatever you need help with, I'll do my very best to help you. I might not get it right all the time, but I'll be there, when you need me. I'll be at your side, helping keep you up—umm, upright? Standing tall? I'll be there. For you, Elsa. For you. Because you're my sister, and I love you. More than you'll ever know."

Tears were forming at the corners of Elsa's eyes. She felt so weary. So alone. Isolated from everyone, even when they were together, the distance of their past shadowed her thoughts. She was trying to earn Anna's love, a love her sister gave of herself so freely. A love Elsa still felt she didn't deserve. A flurry of snow suddenly covered the desk, knocking the sheets of paper flying. Elsa felt an arm around her shoulders. Felt the warmth of Anna's body, heard her breath, soft and shallow. There was no one else in the room. Suddenly everything was blurry. Elsa hugged her sister. It didn't matter who saw them now. There was _no one_ else in Elsa's world.


	8. Lost

**Blood/Gore Trigger Warnings** for surgery scenes and descriptions thereof.

* * *

Elsa took a few minutes to compose herself after Anna released her. Deep, calming breaths, letting the love she felt for her sister thaw the room, banish the ice and snow. She needed to find Kristoff—she had decided on what his reward would be: an official title. After a short search, Elsa found Kai, who informed her that Kristoff had tactfully left somewhat earlier 'to allow princess Anna time with her sister'. Elsa sighed. She would have to give Kristoff his due next time he came to visit. She returned to the study.

Anna was picking up the papers scattered around the floor, trying to put them in tidy piles on the desk, looking unsure exactly as to which papers went where. She read a few lines off one silently.

"I can't believe people would say that about you!" she said angrily, squinting at the paper. "Wait, is that a 'B' or an 'S'?"

Elsa wheeled herself over to look at the scrap of paper. "It's a 'B'. And some of those have called me a lot worse things."

"But the people… Elsa, they have no right to say things like that about you."

"Actually," Elsa corrected her sister. "They do. Sort of. Less insults would be nice, but if they couldn't voice their opinions—and know they'd been heard, I'd probably be deposed within a week. You saw what I did to the kingdom. Just one more thing to atone for. Now it's getting kind of late, are you okay to see the physician?"

Anna nearly swore. "I forgot about that. I was having fun with Kristoff, well, talking and showing off the sled. Now I'm here helping you, and maybe I'm just easily distracted."

"I don't blame you Anna. I wouldn't want to think about something like that too much either—but I am, because it's partly my fault, and because I'm going to be there. By your side."

"I don't know if I'm ready," Anna spoke softly. "But I have to go. As long as you're there, everything's going to be fine, right?"

Elsa nodded, gently taking her sister's hand and leading her from the room. They made very slow progress to the physician's study. Anna kept checking to make sure Elsa was following in her wheelchair. Elsa kept motioning for Anna to continue forwards. It was nearly sundown by the time they made it to the study. The gas lamps outside the castle burned brightly in the near darkness. The lights within the castle were similarly aglow.

Anna looked around the study anxiously. She hadn't expected to see so many people. The physician himself, obviously, but the other three?

"My assistants," the physician pointed to each of them in turn. "Masters Joachim and Yrso, and doctor Solveig, of the Northlands. They are here to assist with the amputation. If you wish, I can explain the procedure to you, though you may not like to know the detail."

"Elsa tried explaining it," Anna said timidly. "But all I could tell was that it would hurt, and that my arm would be gone."

"Essentially correct, but it is more than that," the physician launched into a proper explanation. "The first act we must perform is to find the arteries that supply the blood to your forearm, then we must ligate—tie off—these blood vessels, in much the same way as I did earlier for your lower arm. Once this is complete we will transect—cut through—the muscle of your upper arm. This is the part likely to hurt the most. There will be blood, and quite an amount, as we cannot ligate all the minor blood vessels of your arm—it would take too long, and make little difference to the end result."

Both Anna and Elsa shivered. Hearing the procedure described so clearly—in such clinical detail—was somehow foreboding. Neither woman told the physician to stop, however. thus, he continued with the explanation.

"After the muscle has been transected around the entire arm we must then sever the bone. Here is where my assistants become truly useful. While you might be able to hold your arm steady while the muscle is cut, you would never be able to do so while the saw hacks through the bone. Thus, two of my assistants hold your arm straight and steady. The third holds you down. There are many stories of patients running, starting, screaming, thrashing, or otherwise moving around in ways that make completing the procedure safely an impossible task."

"Is that all?" Anna asked, shaking slightly.

"No, it is not," the physician replied matter-of-factly. "Once the bone has been cut, the jagged end must be filed down and smoothed, in much the same way a carpenter smooths the wood with which he works. The remaining muscle and skin is then wrapped around the bone, and must be sutured—sewn—into place, to ensure the stump heals correctly. Then, and only then, will your arm be bandaged, to speed the healing process."

Elsa reached out to take Anna's hand. The younger woman started at the touch, then slipped her hand in Elsa's. Elsa could feel her sister's heart racing. Anna stood still, taking in a deep breath. Two. Three.

"I—I'm ready," she announced at last.

"Then you should lie on the bed," the physician directed Anna, helping Elsa around to the far side, out of the way, but next to her sister. "Take another deep breath, this will hurt."

Anna gasped in shock, her arm twitching back as the cold steel blade cut through her flesh. She felt the blade slide deep inside her arm, could feel her arm spasming against it. She was surprised the physician could even hold on to the blade. She glanced sideways and saw the two assistants holding her arm steady. She hadn't even felt them take hold after the first twitch. And there was blood. A bright red trail of it running down her bicep. She looked away quickly, screwing her eyes shut at the pain.

Anna felt something cut through a vital part of her arm. A cold steel blade. Felt something else invade the wound. A terrifying moment of feeling her arm awash with her own blood. Then the bleeding stopped. Anna dared to peek at what it was—a tiny tube, bright red, and the physician was tying very fine thread around it, clamping it off. It was only the first of many, Anna understood. She turned to look at her sister.

Elsa was pale, almost deathly so. Anna had never seen such a frightened look on her sister's face. It scared her.

"Elsa—" Anna screamed against the pain, breathing quickly, speaking very fast. "Elsa, what's wrong."

"The… it's…" Elsa was lost for words. Anna stared into her sister's icy blue eyes. "Blood. I—Anna, I'm scared."

"I—" Screaming. Elsa looked at the floor as Anna's grip tightened. "—Why, Elsa? What is—" Anna screwed her eyes shut, screaming as she felt the blade plunge deep into her arm once again. Her breathing suddenly became shallow, and her eyelids fell.

"Anna?" Elsa squeezed her sister's hand. She didn't squeeze back. "Anna? Anna? What's wrong with her?!"

"She fainted. From the pain, your majesty," doctor Solveig spoke, handing another clamp to the physician. "It is not unexpected. The pain from this procedure is most intense, and few people remain awake throughout. Many wish they were not awake at all—and there are stories of strange gases being used to sedate patients in distant lands, but we know not if they are safe."

"I see," Elsa spoke calmly, but her mind was in turmoil. Her heart was breaking. She could see, finally _see_, all the damage that Hans's sword had done to her sister. An injury she was at least partially responsible for. Elsa choked back the bile rising in her throat. There was nothing she could do to alleviate her sister's pain. All she could do was be there—and Elsa didn't know how long she could keep that up. She felt so helpless.

Anna's eyes fluttered opened, and she mouthed a silent scream before taking in everything that was happening. Tears were streaming from her eyes. She could see the heartbreak on her sister's face. Before she could say anything she felt a larger blade carve into the flesh of her upper arm. The pain was beyond anything she'd ever known. It felt wrong that she should even be aware of it. But she was. She could feel the blade sliding backwards, freeing a flap of skin. Her feverish mind couldn't recall why it was necessary.

Anna saw the uncertainty in Elsa's face, inches from her own. Elsa might have been whispering something in her ear, but Anna's universe was only pain. Pain and darkness. She screamed in pain, and the darkness rose to claim her once more. Anna came to moments—or an eternity—later. She couldn't tell. The pain was still there. The sticky feeling of blood running down her arm, splashing against some liquid on the floor. She still couldn't look. But she could focus on Elsa's face. Her beautiful sister trying to comfort her.

"Elsa, it's going to be"—screaming—"it'll be alright. You're"—another scream. Elsa's face darkened with fear—"You're here. With me. You'll stay, right"—a much more subdued scream, a pleading, begging kind of sound—"stay here. For me?"

That cut right to the quick. Elsa knew her sister wasn't blaming her for anything, but it was as if she knew what Elsa was about to do. What she wanted to do. It was almost too much for her to handle, queen or not. Perhaps it was worse, with the added responsibility of being queen.

"The… blood…" Elsa repeated blankly, gesturing at Anna's nearly severed arm. The younger woman never turned away, locking her eyes with Elsa's. "The dream—"

"Just. Dream," Anna panted. Her arm felt—loose, detached. She couldn't feel much of it at all. Except the pain. The pain always stayed. "Hurts. So much. Elsa. Stay. Please!"

Elsa watched the tears cascade from Anna's eyes. She knew they weren't just from the pain she was in. Anna was afraid. Afraid Elsa would leave. Shut her out. Again. Because Anna's hurt wasn't as deep as Elsa's was. Like the day of their parents funeral. Elsa's hurt had been so deep she couldn't move. She'd been resting against that door since the previous morning. And here she was—Elsa caught herself at that. No matter how deeply it hurt to see Anna in pain like this, she would _not_ run from it. Not again.

Elsa held her sister's hand and stroked her fiery hair. "I'm here Anna. I'm going to stay."

"Thank you. Mean it. Just. Hurting. My arm?" Anna's gaze was still locked on to her sister's eyes. She couldn't look away. Didn't want to. Didn't want to see what was happening. If she couldn't see it, it wasn't real. But the pain… the pain was real. Anna gasped, feeling something nick the bone—the flesh around the bone—in her upper arm. She still couldn't look. Elsa could.

It was like small sleeve of bloody flesh, pulled back to reveal the rough whiteness of a bone. Elsa was aghast. She had never seen so much blood. It didn't make sense to her that Anna was still alive. It seemed like so much, covering most of her arm, the side of her dress, and—Elsa assumed—most of the bed. She hadn't noticed the bucket on the floor to catch it.

"Anna?" Elsa whispered.

No answer.

"Anna?" louder.

"Elsa?" Anna asked in return, her voice strangely childlike. "Why can't I feel my arm?"

Before Elsa could reply, Anna turned. She screamed in terror, turning back to Elsa in helpless confusion. Fresh tears were welling at the corner of her eyes. "Did I get hurt?"

"Yes."

"Was it—" Anna screamed as she turned to look at it again. "Was bad?"

"Yes."

"Hurt you too?"

Elsa had no choice. She had to lie. In her current state it was unlikely Anna would understand much. "No. I'm fine. Worried about you."

"Good. Good," Anna patted her sister on the shoulder. "You stay. Good sist—" Another scream. "Hurts. Good Elsa. Nice sister. Sleep now."

Anna fainted again. The physician reached for the saw, motioning for doctor Solveig to hold Anna down, just in case. Elsa absently stroked her sister's hair, trying to ignore the grinding sound of the saw, the way the physician was panting with exertion. All she wanted was for Anna to be safe. Safe and whole. But she never would be again. Elsa didn't know how to process that. She wanted to run, to leave the pain behind. Wanted to be alone, to try and process everything. _Wanted_ to.

No, she told herself. I'm better than that. I can do this.

But not without Anna.

Then she realized what the problem—her own problem—really was. She had been secretly hoping, wishing that all this would magically go away. That things could be the way they were before. That nothing would have changed, except that Anna knew about her powers, and she had Anna back. Seeing the physician remove Anna's arm… it made it real. It meant it was impossible for things to go back. She thought she'd put the past behind her on the North Mountain, but it had a way of coming back to haunt her.

Anna's fingers slipped free of Elsa's grip. The older sister exhaled in shock. Then Anna pointed at something, sounding surprised. "Is… is my arm?"

"Yes."

"Why gone? Hurt?"

"Yes. Hurt very bad."

"You okay Elsie?"

"Elsie?"

"Big sister. Elsie. Is okay, right?"

"I'm fine," Elsa was lying to her sister again.

"Good. You be fine. Help get arm later. Stealing it. Steal it back."

The rest of Anna's talk was mostly gibberish, but Elsa humoured her with smiles and nods while the physician sutured flesh over the stump, and finally bound it in heavy bandages.

"Princess Anna will be delirious for some time. The pain has done it to her mind. It would be best if she is accompanied until morning, at the very least. Do not move her too fast. If the bleeding has not stopped within half an hour, see me at once."

"Okay princess feistypants," Elsa used Kristoff's nickname for her sister. "Time for bed."

"Don't wanna," Anna protested, following her sister anyway. "Not tired. Lied to me. Wheelchair. You hurt too."

"I didn't want to scare you. Can we talk about this in the morning?"

"Morning?" Anna's words were slurring. "Morning. Talk. Sleepy. Bedtime?"

"Yes, bedtime," Elsa took her sister's left hand, and helped lead her back through the castle, to her own room. When she'd proposed sharing a room again, Elsa had never considered the she might move into Anna's room. It was actually a very nice room, much more warmly decorated than her own. Messier too, but that was Anna. Gerda helped where she could, but mess and clutter seemed to be somehow spontaneously generated by Anna's room. Gerda was there now, helping to tuck Anna in for a good night's sleep. There to help Elsa get changed, get ready for bed.

"Gerda, I plan to sleep here tonight. The physician recommended someone accompany Anna until morning."

"Very well queen Elsa. Do you wish to be awakened at dawn again?"

"No, Gerda. Not tomorrow. I'll sleep in with Anna—if she sleeps."

"I understand," Gerda clasped her hands and nodded once.

It wasn't much later when Elsa was tucked in next to Anna. It seemed such a silly thing to request. She was old enough to—well, it didn't matter. What mattered was that she was sharing a bed with her sister. Anna had asked her stay, and Elsa intended to make good on that promise. It was the least she could do. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had tucked her in. What had she been? Eight? Ten?

It had been Papa, of course. She wished he were here now. She wished she really did have his wisdom and strength. Anna had all of Mama's warmth and compassion, and Papa's determination. Elsa sighed, tears burning in the corners of her eyes. She never even got to say goodbye. Anna shifted, rolling onto her stump and gasping in pain, facing Elsa. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Elsa… sad?" she asked, tracing her sister's tears with her remaining hand.

"Thinking about Papa," Elsa replied softly. "And Mama too. I never said goodbye."

"Want to… want to sing?" Anna asked quietly. "Lullaby?"

"I—" Elsa choked up. She couldn't think of what else to say. Maybe it was time she made her peace with it. At least for a little while. "A lullaby."

So, lying in the dark, the stars shining through the window, and tears in their eyes, the sisters of Arendelle sang. Tonight they weren't Queen and Princess. They weren't nobles. They weren't Anna and Elsa. They were two little girls. Two little girls who had lost their parents far too soon.

Elsa sang, tears streaming down her face.

An ache  
So deep  
That I  
Can hardly breathe  
This pain  
Can't be imagined  
Will it ever heal?  
Ooh... ooh...

Anna sang, pulling her sister close.

My hand  
So small  
Held a strand of your hair  
So strong  
All I could do  
Was keep believing  
Was that enough?

Together, they sang, their voices almost breaking.

Is anyone there?

I wanna scream  
Is this a dream?  
How could this happen,  
Happen to me?  
This isn't fair  
This nightmare  
This kind of torture  
I just can't bear  
I want you here  
I want you here  
Ooh... ooh...

We waited so long  
For you to come  
Then you weren't home  
And we knew you'd gone  
We were not prepared  
For you to leave  
Oh this misery

Are you still there?

Papa, I want you here  
Mama, I want you here  
We were strong  
But now you're gone  
All we have  
All we've known  
All we wanted  
Was you

All along

Elsa reached for Anna, pulled her close. She was crying into Anna's shoulder. Anna sniffled at hers. A shadow crept over them. Elsa looked about the room. Rime ice covered the walls. Starlight reflected and refracted off something in the middle of the room. Two shapes, heartbreakingly familiar. For an instant Elsa hoped they would move, but she knew they never would. Her powers… what she wanted… she wished her control was better.

"Mama, Papa?" Anna asked, staring at the icy statues. "No…"

"It's—I just—Anna?" Elsa looked at her sister, trying to figure out what, exactly, she should be saying.

"I–I miss them too Elsa. So much. Just… just leave them be. Your ice is amazing. Sleep," and then Anna did something Elsa never expected. She kissed her on the cheek, stroking her hair gently. Just the way Mama used to when they were little. It was too much. Elsa had dragged herself half out of the bed before she realized what she was doing. No, she told herself. I am _not_ running away. Not this time. Not again.

Anna was already asleep, breathing steadily. Elsa wriggled back under the covers. She knew, absolutely_ knew_, that she did not deserve a sister like Anna. The way she'd been acting, the way she'd nearly killed her sister—twice—and the way Anna was still willing to forgive her. To fight for her—for _them_. Elsa just could not understand a love that deep. It was… she sighed heavily, new tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Elsa didn't know what it was. Not anymore.

So she lay there, crying quietly, one arm around her sister, until sleep reached out to claim her.

* * *

**AN:** That was _not_ easy to write. I'm still not sure I did it justice, or if I showed too much or too little. The song is once again inspired by a youtube video  
www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=0PzgTjZ8TSk


	9. Roles & Titles

Morning found the sisters of Arendelle embracing under the covers of Anna's bed. Elsa woke slowly, her eyes gummed with sleep. For once, the dreams had not come. She felt safe. Warm. _Loved_. As her eyes opened she saw Anna's face less than an inch from her own. Eyes closed, breathing steadily, the red-haired princess was fast asleep. Her remaining arm was wrapped tightly around Elsa. And, Elsa finally noticed, holding part of her it really shouldn't have been.

Elsa shifted under the covers, trying to extricate herself without waking her sister. She was eventually forced to simply push Anna away, shifting her sister sideways. Hands ended up in places Elsa was sure Anna would have objected to had she been awake. It wasn't her fault that that was the only place she could find that also let her have leverage against the sheets as well.

Anna awoke with a start. Elsa could tell simply because the sheets rocketed away from them. It was as if her sister had suddenly turned into a catapult.

"Elsa?" Anna blinked, sleep fogging her mind.

"Yes?"

"You're in my bed?"

"Yes."

"_Why_ are you in my bed?"

"To keep you safe. To watch you, while your arm heals."

Anna looked down, to her right, and had to stifle a scream. "M–my a–arm?"

"On the ice," Elsa began to explain patiently. "Hans struck you. His sword slashed through your arm. Across my back. The physicians couldn't save your arm."

"But you… okay?"

"No, Anna, I'm not. I might never—"

"Yes!" Elsa was confused about her sister's sudden shout of triumph. Surely Anna hadn't become that sadistic overnight. The younger woman smiled, still talking to the room. "Elsa opened up to me."

"Anna, are you actually awake?"

There was much blinking and yawning. Eventually Anna's eyes brightened with understanding and memory. Her arm. Elsa's legs. Life at the castle. Kristoff. Sven. Olaf.

"No, no, it's fine," Anna yawned. "I've been awake for hours."

"Anna, I'm right here."

The younger sister yawned again. "Oh. Umm. I—Thank you."

"For what?"

"For staying," Anna was finally feeling her brain start to work. "For being here. Sleeping with me—I mean, not that I think anything happened—we're sisters, but… thank you. I know it can't have been easy for you. Hey, what happened to the statues?"

Elsa looked at the foot of the bed. The ice sculptures she had made accidentally through the night were gone, although a thin dusting of snow still covered room. "I don't know Anna. I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Elsa, it's okay," Anna hugged her sister, red hair falling everywhere. She wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words.

Shuffling back, Elsa propped herself up on a pillow, gently pushing Anna away. They would both need to get ready for the day. Elsa felt a subtle dread rising within her at the prospect of doing so much more paperwork. She knew Papa had managed it almost effortlessly. At least, it had _looked_ effortless. Elsa knew now that that was probably a facade, for her benefit. Another thought occurred to her. A much more painful thought. She had to let it out.

"Anna?" her voice was tentative, afraid, full of heartfelt sorrow. "I don't know where their graves are."

The red haired princess of Arendelle stared at her sister in disbelief. Her frown softened into an expression of sorrow and understanding. She was finally starting to realize how much effort it took Elsa to say things like that. To let herself feel. To show other people she was capable of feeling.

"I can take you later, if you'd like," Anna spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you," Elsa reached up to hug her sister—couldn't quite reach. Anna leaned over and wrapped her in a warm hug.

"Nearly three years…" Anna let her voice trail off. "I take them something every year. A flower for Mama, a stone for Papa."

"A… stone?" Elsa was confused. What sort of significance could a stone have. They were everywhere, in fields, on the road, occasionally falling off the sides of buildings.

"Othala, Eiwahz, Inguz."

"Home, Yew Tree, Fertility?" Elsa questioned her sister's understanding of the runes.

"May your hearth be blessed with family for all time," Anna explained.

Elsa nearly collapsed into the covers. How did Anna _know_ these things. It was as if her sister knew exactly what was most likely to make her want to cry and smile and hit her all at the same time. It didn't matter that Anna's interpretation of the runes was incorrect—what mattered was that it was _hers_. The runes held special meaning to her. Which made them special to Papa. Made the act of placing a stone significant. An act of remembrance, of solace.

Pushing herself up into a reasonable imitation of a sitting position, Elsa took her sister's hand. She could feel Anna almost flinch away from the contact. Almost. Elsa placed her other hand on Anna's shoulder.

"Anna," she spoke solemnly, and the red haired princess's face flushed with concern. "I need you to promise me something."

"What is it Elsa?"

"When we visit their—visit our parents' graves. Just… I… don't let me run from the pain. Make sure I don't hide."

"How on earth am I supposed to be able to do that?" Anna stared skeptically at her sister. "I know you've been trying to open up, I really do. You're just—you're very good at running. Umm, ahh, I mean, you can run really—arghhh!"

Anna shook her hand in frustration and slapped her forehead. How could she be so insensitive? To her own _sister_? But Elsa was laughing. Heartily. Anna could feel herself blushing. What could Elsa possibly be laughing at when she'd just been forcibly—insultingly—reminded of something she couldn't do. Could never do again. Getting her rising panic under control, Anna asked her sister what, exactly, was so very funny.

"You," came the reply. "Just… oh, the look on your face when you realized what you were sayi—what the… oww. I'm not mad Anna. Really, I'm not. If I can laugh at myself sometimes, that's healthy right?"

Anna could only nod. She had just slapped her sister, adding injury to insult, but the mark had already faded. She was impressed Elsa hadn't tried to hit her back. But Elsa had always had more self control, better composure.

"This—" Elsa gestured to her legs, the fact they weren't moving "—is part of who I am now. Just like you are."

"I'm a part of… who you are?"

"Like it or not, princess feistypants, you've managed to change me."

"For the better," it wasn't a question.

"And if you're willing to help, I'd like to change again."

Anna stared at her sister, then at where she was pointing. There was a regal looking dress, royal purple, black sleeves, embroidered gold trim, and a midnight blue cape with beautiful rosemaling in an ice motif. All of these were resting on a dress maker's mannequin. A similar dress was laid over a second mannequin, rendered in a rich forest green, with no sleeves, and a much more restrained cape of viridian with traditional rosemaling around the tail.

"Umm, Elsa?" Anna pointed at the dresses, unsure of what, exactly, they meant.

"I'm granting Kristoff a title today. My gift to him for saving your life. You wouldn't miss a party like that, would you?"

"Party…?"

"Okay, it's just a small, official ceremony. A few witnesses, that's all."

"Well… okay. Hey, your cape… isn't kind of… umm—is it going to get in the way?"

"I'm not wearing it," Elsa confided. "But most of my old wardrobe appears to require any dress for official ceremonies to have a cape."

Anna laughed, helping drag Elsa out of bed with her good arm.

"Elsa, I know you said you couldn't walk with your magic, but can you stand?"

"Of course not," Elsa sank into her newly conjured chair. "My legs don't work anymore."

"No, no. I meant by using your magic. Can you use it to just keep your legs still, keep your balance?"

"I… don't know," Elsa finally admitted. "I hadn't thought to try that."

"Well?" Anna asked expectantly, lifting her sister from the chair.

Ice crept up Elsa's legs like curling vines, wrapping them in gossamer sheets of crystallized water. Runners like the pleats of a dress shot from Elsa's waist towards the floor, seeming to anchor her. Ice encased her feet like thick boots, and Elsa smiled, motioning for Anna to let her go. For a second, two, three, she stood. There was a soft crack. One of the runners fell away. Another crack. Another and another. Elsa's hands shot out, recreating the anchors almost as quickly as they vanished. It took a lot of concentration not to ice over the whole room.

Making the anchoring ice thicker didn't seem to help. Elsa fought for several more seconds before an ear-splitting crack rent the air. In an instant she was on the floor, nursing a badly bruised arm, Anna looking down at her, shocked, arm still held out to catch her. Elsa took a minute to collect her breath, slowly dragging herself towards the chair she had conjured earlier.

"It's hard Anna," she explained as the younger woman looked expectantly at her. "It took most of my concentration just to balance properly. With a lot—I mean probably months, at least—of practice, I might be able to do it for a few minutes. It's not exactly subtle, either. People would see. Would know exactly what I was doing. I'm not sure if they'd pity me for it, or resent me, or just laugh."

"Maybe they'd admire you for your bravery?" Anna offered. "See that you're willing to fight for something you really want. And if you fall… people won't laugh at you. They'll help you up. Show you that you don't have to stand alone."

"This isn't just about my injuries, is it?"

"I'm just trying to say I'm here for you Elsa, you can use me any way you—wait, what's so funn—oh, and you used to say _I_ had a dirty mind!"

Elsa laughed. "If we're done teasing each other, maybe we should get our morning… tasks… out of the way, and get dressed for breakfast."

"Mmmm, breakfast," Anna smiled as she wheeled her sister towards the bathroom. "Hey, why didn't Gerda wake us up earlier?"

"Because I asked her not to."

"You asked her not to," Anna repeated absently, the words not sinking in. "You asked her not to."

"You needed sleep. Rest. I wasn't going to risk disturbing that. Risk leaving you. I want to spend more time with you. Get to know you better. You'll probably be tired for a few days, but that's okay, I'm willing to sleep with you until—oh, stop giggling."

The morning proceeded apace from that point, the sisters enjoying a hearty breakfast, breaking from tradition by eating in the conservatory on the second floor instead of the dining room. The view across the fjord was spectacular. Olaf wandered through, greeted the sisters, and then left again. Anna's eyebrow rose in a silent question. Elsa merely shrugged. Neither of them actually knew what the little snowman got up to while they weren't around. From most reports they heard, mischief.

The ceremony granting Kristoff his title was held in the chapel. A place neither of the sisters had visited since coronation day. Five days ago. It was strange then, that the distance in time felt closer to years than days. Elsa kept her eyes on the dais as they approached. Anna turned her head left and right, taking everything in as she wheeled her sister forward. It seemed strange to her that nothing in this building had changed—and yet almost everything in _her_ had. She was looking at everything under a new light.

Anna was looking at her sister under a new light too. She had always felt vaguely jealous of Elsa's stunning appearance. A beauty that seemed as effortless and natural—and as dangerous—as a snow capped mountain. The dress Elsa had chosen to wear today was remarkably demure, very queenly. While it did, indeed, accentuate her curves and draw attention to her body, it did so without exposing an inch of flesh unnecessarily. Anna wondered just how a dress like that even worked—and if that thought even made sense.

Her own dress was rather more daring. Maybe not so much as the somewhat frozen and—slightly—damaged coronation dress she had left at Oaken's, but it was looser, freer, off the shoulder with a daring yet restrained neckline. Anna considered a better description of the neckline… teasing. Just as she was prone to do. It was going to be a challenge to pull off some of her old tricks with only one arm, Anna glanced at the bandage covering the stump of her right arm. Some of her old tricks might even be impossible now—but that didn't mean she wasn't at least going to try them.

She almost missed Kristoff arriving. It wasn't that he normally made an entrance, it was just… if she hadn't known better, Anna could have sworn the uniformed young man that walked in was an actual noble. The slight slouch, the scruffy hair, the little smirk when he saw her. Well, Anna considered, her ice harvester cleaned up very nicely indeed. Although he did still smell slightly of reindeer when he got closer.

"Kristoff!" she waved with her left arm, her right side out of view from him. "Wow. You look amazing. Really handsome. I could kiss you–I will. Later. After things, and… oh, this feels so awkward."

Kristoff adjusted the collar of his jacket in a not-so-subtle manner. "Awkward. Very. Anna, how do people _wear_ these things?"

Anna heard her sister stifle a laugh. "Well normally they're tailored. For most royals anyway. They fit better, and normally… I don't know, people are trained to live in them."

Elsa spoke up then. "Most ceremonial clothing is quite impractical, mister Bjorgman. Royals wear these clothes to impress other nobles, although I've wondered sometimes if it isn't simply a contest to see which man can out-stubborn the other in the more impractical clothes. What you have on is a ceremonial uniform for the Palace Guard. You're also meant to be wearing another two layers of clothing underneath that."

"So I can add slowly steaming in my own juices to the list of indignities this suit puts me through?"

"You don't like cleaning up like that, my valiant reindeer king?"

"No."

"Too bad," Anna spoke sharply. "Because I do. You don't know how good you look in that uniform. Like a real king. Almost."

Anna could hear her sister's barely suppressed laughter. Okay, so Kristoff stood for almost everything a king wasn't. The laughter wasn't what held his attention though. He had finally moved close enough to see Anna's right side. Anger burned in his eyes, with an intensity that gave the red-headed princess chills.

"If that monster ever shows his face in Arendelle again—"

"He will answer to _me_," Elsa cut in, her tone pure ice. All three of them felt the temperature drop suddenly. Elsa made to apologize, but a swift gesture from Kristoff stopped her. He understood that Elsa's claim against Hans stemmed not from her royalty, but from her _family_. Anna was Kristoff's friend—maybe even girlfriend—but she was Elsa's sister. A bond of blood that gave Elsa first rights at redressing any slights or insults—or nearly mortal injuries.

There was something else Kristoff understood in that moment. The fact that Anna had survived being frozen, having her arm slashed apart, had survived everything, was the only reason Hans had remained alive to return to the Southern Isles. The ice harvester remembered Marshmallow all too well. The spikes of ice around the palace. He shivered when he thought of what might have been. If Anna hadn't frozen when she did…

"Kristoff!" Anna shook him roughly, pointing him towards the dais. While he had been lost in thought the other people for the ceremony had filed in and taken their seats. It was time. Anna and Gerda helped Elsa to stand, supporting her as she gave a brief address to the witnesses and officials gathered in the chapel. Elsa sat back in her chair, and bid Kristoff to kneel in front of her.

The ice harvester knelt, grudgingly, and bowed his head. He felt Elsa place something heavy around his neck, a cloth strap, with something metal attached. He held the object in front of him. It was a medallion, large, gold edged. The centre was silver filigree, a subtly embossed and highly detailed rendition of a single snowflake. On the back, running around the edge, were several Futhark runes. Kristoff could easily discern Isa, Jera, Raido, and Gebo.

"For your actions in saving Princess Anna of Arendelle, my only sister, I name you, Kristoff Bjorgman, as Official Ice Master and Deliverer for the kingdom of Arendelle."

"That's not a thing," Kristoff whispered in reply.

"It is now," Elsa whispered back, winking.

After the ceremony, Anna spent most of the day celebrating with Kristoff after making sure Elsa would be okay while she was out. Elsa sat at her desk, in the study, dealing with the mountain of paperwork that seemed to be the one constant of Arendelle's politics. There had to be a better way. She remembered the ruling council, established when her parents died, and dissolved upon her coronation. Perhaps she could turn to them for advice.

"Kai?"

"A request, Queen Elsa?"

"Yes. I wish to meet with the ruling council again. I feel I need their wisdom in an advisory capacity. Running a kingdom is too much work for just one person."

"Your father tended to agree," Kai spoke simply. "That was why he insisted on a council instead of stewardship, should anything untoward happen to himself or your mother, as it unfortunately did."

"Why didn't I think of this before?" Elsa asked the air as Kai wheeled her through the castle. "Why didn't you tell me about the council?"

"Because as your servant, it is not my place to advise on ruling policy or the running of the state, only on the running of the castle proper—and that you seem to have quite in hand."

"But you could see me struggling, you helped organize all the paperwork there. You… you…"

"I did what any good servant would. I am sorry for not helping you, but I simply do not know _how_ to run a kingdom, your majesty."

"You helped my father with…" Elsa trailed off, memories floating past. Anything related to the castle, the grounds, the staff, Elsa had seen her father and Kai in discussion over. But when talking of the kingdom, of policy, of laws, of other countries—it had been her. Only her. Elsa was shocked to remember it so clearly. There were a few vague faces from those meetings, but none of them were constant. Had Papa had several councils during his time as king?

Elsa couldn't remember. That summed up most of her afternoon, a blur of meetings, apologies, suggestions and not-so-subtle insults by those disinclined to trust anyone with special powers. That was why she sat in her chair at the gates to the castle, awaiting her sister's return. It was late, she knew they wouldn't get to the graves today. It wasn't that she was afraid to go out after dark—she was the queen, after all, and had her magic—it was that she was afraid it would add to her already dark mood.

Kristoff pulled up outside the gates, his new sled having an unhealthy coating of dirt and mud along the runners and lower body. The ice harvester half-carried Anna to the gates of the castle, where she tried to hide an extravagant yawn. She put her arm out to lean against the gate. Her right arm. Elsa caught her as she stumbled. Seeing Anna was safe, Kristoff dismissed himself as Elsa turned her sister toward the castle.

"Long day, Anna?"

"Fun," she replied. "But… trolls. Heavy. Tried to marry us again. You should meet them."

"Anna," Elsa looked her sister in the eye, her voice hitching. "Is it–is it okay that I don't want to vis–to visit Mama and Papa's graves? Am I trying to run away from the pain again?"

"Nah," Anna waved airily. "'s late. Be really late by the time we go' back. Go tomorrow, 'kay?"

Anna stumbled again, and Elsa caught a whiff of something on her breath. She looked at her sister sternly. "Anna, have you been drinking?"

"Troll stuff. Had t' drink something, right?"

Elsa sighed. She was not going to get mad at this. Anna was a responsible—okay, mostly responsible—adult. She could make her own decisions. Elsa had to respect that. On the upside, she had learned that Anna didn't mind a drink or three, and really wasn't a problem while slightly tipsy. Aside from threatening to spill Elsa out of her chair when she staggered against it once or twice. She wasn't even going to comment on the twigs and leaves she saw sticking out from Anna's hair at all sorts of crazy angles. In the morning however, Elsa was going to lecture her sister about proper care of formal and ceremonial clothing. The castle's seamstress would likely have a fit.

Did the castle even have a seamstress? Elsa found herself asking. She honestly didn't know. That would be another task for tomorrow. Learn about the castle staff. Then find people to fill the vacant roles. With just her, Anna, Kai, Gerda and a handful of kitchen staff and groundskeepers, Elsa knew the castle felt empty. Almost abandoned. That was her fault too. Her parents had sent the staff away, because Elsa was afraid of hurting anyone with her powers. She had still managed to hurt someone in the castle. The person she cared about most in the world.

The person currently taking extra special care to climb the last three steps before she reached her room.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry about how rambling this one is, but I was trying to set up a few things for later, and just kind of went with the flow.


	10. Letting Go

"You failed everyone!" Papa's voice was clearer than ever, ringing through the ice palace. "You froze your sister. You abandoned your kingdom. You left your people _helpless_. You are no Queen."

"Bu–but it was an acci–accident Papa," Elsa's eight year old self stammered, backing away. "I di–didn't mean to–to hurt anyone."

"But you did!" the vision of her father roared back. "Anna is dead because of you! Arendelle suffers through an eternal winter—a winter you brought to them. Your people freeze in their very homes. How could you do this Elsa? How!"

Elsa stared at her feet. At her distorted reflection in the ice beneath them. She was small, and helpless, and alone. Everything was her fault. She wished she could just disappear. She was tiny and cold, but there was nowhere to hide. Papa seemed so much larger, more impressive. More imposing. More angry than he ever had been. Angrier than _Mom_. Elsa shook with fear, not really understanding what was happening. She tried so hard to control her powers. To keep everything in. She had tried everything. In the end she had simply pushed people away. Hopefully far enough that she could never hurt them again.

But it wasn't. It was never far enough. And even if those people didn't know it, they could still hurt her. Elsa thought of her sister, brave, bold little Anna. Red hair in braids, the shock of white—and how she had no idea why it was there. Elsa thought of Arendelle, the people, going about their lives, now buried in snow. She thought of Papa, how much she hated when he shouted at her. Her fear turned to anger. Her guilt turned to rage. How dare he accuse her of failing. How dare he blame her for Anna's death when he couldn't find a way to keep her powers in check.

Elsa just wanted him gone. A surge of water reflected off the ice. The wave crashed through the palace, splintering the walls into a million tiny pieces. Elsa struggled against the onslaught, dashed around mercilessly by the water. She tried to find her father. To catch one more glimpse of Papa. But he was gone. The water was gone. Everything… gone. Elsa sat in the snow, sobbing.

"No. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Come back. Come back! Please!"

Papa didn't come back. He never came back. A rumbling shook the mountain above her. Elsa didn't care anymore. Let an avalanche bury her. It didn't matter. It was what she deserved. After everything she'd done, she was surprised she hadn't simply been swallowed by the earth. Dragged into an unfeeling, blissful darkness. The snow slammed into her back, sent her tumbling into rocks and trees. A jagged spire of rock rushed to meet her. Elsa closed her eyes and everything went black.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice was soft, soothing. "Elsa, are you okay?"

"I—" Elsa looked into her sister's sleepy eyes. She was tempted to lie, to let Anna at least have a peaceful night. No. She was going to be better than that. Anna deserved better than that. "No, Anna, I'm not okay."

Elsa could feel her sister's hand trace her tears, gently brushing her cheeks. "You were crying. Shouting for someone to come back."

"Papa," Elsa half sobbed. She felt Anna shiver. In the moonlight she could see a thin layer of frost coating every surface. Small drifts of snow were scattered around the room.

"It's okay," Anna whispered, hugging her sister tight. "It's okay to be weak sometimes. To not be okay. To miss people."

"But I'm the Queen," Elsa protested. "I have to be strong. Strong enough for everyone. Show everyone my strengths, hide my weaknesses."

"I already know your strengths, but your weaknesses… they're what make you a person. A normal person, just like the rest of us. And maybe you don't want to be normal—or do you, with your powers?—but if we had different parents, we'd be normal. You and me. Nothing special. Just a girl with ice powers, and a girl without. Maybe we grew up different. Didn't hide your powers. Then we always built snowmen. Not just in winter, and I…"

Elsa wasn't sure what the next word was, but it sounded suspiciously like a snore. Anna's drooping eyelids confirmed the fact. So much for a midnight pep-talk. But Elsa did feel a little better. Anna was right. She didn't have to be okay all the time. Actually, Elsa considered, she was going to have to come to terms with not being okay quite a lot of the time. Sure, she would feel fine for a while. Hours. Maybe even a day. Then the paperwork, her legs, worrying about Anna. Heirs and succession. Arendelle. The future of the kingdom. All of it weighed heavily on her shoulders. She wished, just for a moment. For a second. She wished she could undo everything. But she realized that would also undo all the good memories too. Undo Anna's happiness. Elsa couldn't bring herself to wish for something like that come true, ever again.

So, instead of wishing for impossible things, Elsa tried to relax, watching her sister sleep. Elsa looked at her sister. Really looked at her, for the first time in… ever, really. Elsa could never remember being this close to anyone. Not even when she was a child. She studied Anna's face, the curve of her cheek, her small nose. Her hilariously—endearingly—terrible bed head. Anna's gently curving chin. Her slender neck, pale and vulnerable in the moonlight. The way her shoulders shifted as she rolled onto her back.

That was when Elsa noticed her sister's nightgown was in complete disarray, having fallen off her shoulder and left rather large areas exposed. Elsa wanted to simply slide the strap of the gown back up Anna's arm, but part of her was afraid of disturbing her sister's sleep. A different part of her was quietly comparing how similar they looked, and how different they were. Elsa knew that she had a respectable bust, and that Anna's was somewhat less impressive. Even in the moonlight, her sister's skin had a subtle glow about it, a much brighter, more radiant look than her own pale flesh.

Elsa's hand was halfway to her sister's exposed flesh before she realized what she was doing. Elsa gasped and drew her hand back. What in heaven's name was she thinking? Slowly, she realized how close they had become as sisters. She realized what closeness like that normally signified. She wondered if Anna ever thought like that. After all, this was the closest they'd been in a long time. The things they'd shared… Elsa wondered if they could be called intimate. She remembered the way Anna held her, touched her briefly, when she bathed, when she was toweling off.

Slowly, Elsa realized she had come to crave her sister's touch. Almost as much as she had tried to deny it for the last thirteen years. And because of that, she was confused. Very, very confused. She wanted a family—but she couldn't have one. Didn't this mean she should only have feelings like this for men. What if Anna had been a man. A friend, not family. Or what if Anna was only a friend, not her sister. Did that make thoughts like these alright?

Of course Elsa knew what was supposed to happen. Papa had had 'the talk' with her one embarrassing evening, an evening that seemed so very long ago. But things had been different then. Elsa's interest, her understanding, had been merely intellectual. She hadn't thought that she would ever find someone. She didn't think she deserved anyone—or that anyone was terrible enough to deserve her. On a basic level, she had understood what the talk was about. But only now, in the pale moonlight, lying next to Anna's half naked body and with most unsisterly thoughts crashing into each other in her head, did Elsa understand what the talks had meant. Only now did she understand—at least in part—about the emotions involved.

She wasn't sure confusion was supposed to be in there though. Maybe she'd added that one herself. And still she lay there, wondering: what if Anna was only a friend. A good friend. Or what if it had been a man lying there. Someone who had helped her through her injury over the past few days. Someone she didn't feel awkward around. Elsa didn't have any answers to those questions. They only raised more questions and left her even more confused.

Elsa sighed heavily, rolling over, putting her back to her sister, facing away from temptation. She needed sleep. She needed time. She needed… Elsa didn't know what she really needed. She just knew that she needed it.

"Elsa, wake up," Anna's voice was bursting with excitement. Elsa had no idea why. "C'mon, get up. We'll be late."

"Late for what?" Elsa slowly dragged herself towards consciousness.

"My wedding."

That did it. Elsa was suddenly awake, staring questioningly at her sister while trying to prop herself up on her elbows. "Your wedding?!"

Anna's laughter was priceless, as was the look on Elsa's face. Elsa thought she heard someone's subdued laughter outside the door. The light shining through the window showed it was still early. Very early. Yet Anna was awake, and excited about something. There was a cough from the other side of the door. Elsa turned to her sister, the huge grin slowly spreading across her face. And then Elsa knew.

"If Kristoff doesn't show up in the next five minutes," she muttered darkly. "He's going to be a widower."

Ice began to frost the windows, and the room chilled. Spikes of ice grew towards the bed.

"Elsa," it came as a breathless whisper. Elsa had heard it only once before—at the coronation ball. Her heart fell.

Elsa let the magic ebb, causing the ice to vanish. Anna shivered.

"Anna…?"

Anna's arm reached out to embrace her sister, dragging her under the covers. "When you use your magic like that. When it's angry… you're angry… it's… well, you're scary sometimes."

"I didn't mean to scare you like that Anna. I just wanted to give you a little fright."

"More than a little, you stinker," Anna thumped her sister on the chest. "You honestly think I'd marry Kristoff without asking you first—without taking the time to get to know him properly? Actually he's a really sweet guy. Strong too. Smells like reindeer, but he tastes like… umm, he tastes good?"

"I have no desire to know how you know that," Elsa made her wishes quite clear.

"Not even a little?" Anna teased running a hand through Elsa's unbraided her. The platinum blonde queen of Arendelle shied away from the touch. Anna was surprised enough to let her hand fall away empty. That was also when she noticed Elsa staring at her chest—in kind of the same way Kristoff pretended not to when he could get away with it. "Elsa? Is everything okay?"

"I–It's fine Anna. I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't want to talk now?" Anna asked, dragging herself out of bed, and helping her sister into her chair. "Or you just don't want to talk?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Just… not with you…"

"But we've shared so much now. I thought you were past shutting me out!" anger crept into Anna's voice.

"I cant," Elsa repeated flatly.

"Why?" Anna pressed, helping Elsa undress herself in the bathroom.

"I can't!" the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Anna shivered.

"Okay…" Anna's expression softened. She could tell Elsa needed more time. It had taken her a long time to ask about their parents. This was probably something similarly painful. Anna wondered if it was about that night—when she was five and Elsa was eight. They'd talked about it. Elsa had apologized for it, but it it always seemed to show up again. She just needs time, Anna told herself. "But Elsa, please, don't shut me out. I want to help."

"I know you do. And you are. You're helping more than you know. Just being there—and that's just it. You're always there. I keep feeling like I'm holding you back from something," it wasn't a lie. Not really. Elsa really did feel that way sometimes. And anyway, how could she possibly tell Anna how she truly felt. The whole situation was unbearably awkward. "If you want to get back to sleep, I can always call for Gerda."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous Elsa. You're just going to have to get over your embarrassment at needing help with this. Like it wasn't going to happen eventually."

"What?!" Elsa was more shocked than angry.

"Well, we're both gonna get old one day—I mean, like, a long time from now. Years even"—Anna stuck out her tongue—"but we'll get old. We'll need help doing things. Probably forget your name first. Then mine. But I'll remember what I had for breakfast six days ago because I'll be seeing it again."

"Anna!" Elsa was laughing despite the awkwardness she suddenly felt around her sister. "That's disgusting. And most unladylike."

"What, old people aren't allowed to poop?"

Elsa held her head in her hands. Trust Anna to be so blunt. So terribly, terribly—hilariously—blunt. Elsa really didn't have a reply to that. Mostly because she was still mortified to hear her sister talk like that. To talk about such things. Even in private. Even, Elsa realized, in the appropriate setting. She was also suddenly reminded of Anna's persistence when it came to getting things she wanted.

"Elsa, about this morning," she started tentatively. "I get it. It's something you don't want to talk about. Like my arm. I mean, how I didn't want to talk about that. But, can you at least tell me why?"

"I—" Elsa started, but cut herself off. "I'm sorry Anna. I can't. It's… it's really awkward."

"Is it that whole family and succession thing where having a baby makes me queen?"

"Well, sort of," Elsa replied. It was the truth, to some degree. At this point Anna was washing up, and helping Elsa into her day clothes. Which were disturbingly all black.

"You look like you're going to a fune—oh," and Anna understood. Recalled the conversation they'd had the previous morning. Was this the source of all the awkwardness?

"Wear whatever you want," Elsa spoke casually to her sister. Too casually. "You've already done this."

"You're not getting out of it that easily. We're both going. _After_ breakfast. And I have my own mourning dress to wear."

Elsa could see the tears gathering at the corners of Anna's eyes. Felt the unshed tears weighing her down. She thought she'd grieved, accepted the loss in her own private prison. All she'd done was push it out of her mind. Lock it deep within her heart. She hadn't wanted to hurt. She'd never felt a hurt so deep. Not until she had sung the lullaby with Anna did she realize what she really needed to do. She also realized that meant she would have to relive all that pain. All the heartache. But instead of locking up it, this time, somehow, she would have to let it go.

"Hey Elsa?" Anna asked innocently. "Would you like to braid my hair. It's kinda… umm… impossible to do with just one hand."

They were back in Anna's room. Elsa hesitated. It meant she would be touching her sister. Would her touch be different now? Would Anna notice? Could she take that risk?

"Sure. You didn't bother brushing it, did you?"

"Hey, I totally—" Elsa's stare cut off Anna's protest as the red haired sister sat in front of Elsa's wheelchair. She wordlessly handed Elsa her brush.

If she noticed any difference in the way Elsa held her hair, touched her head, or anything else, she made no comment about it. Instead, she mock-whined.

"You know, I kind of miss the white. It felt special."

Elsa reached forward to hug her sister, wrapping both arms around her from behind. It was a difficult posture to hold, sitting in the chair. She couldn't help that when her hand slipped it ended up where it did. Or that she was saying, at the time: "You don't need the white hair. You're special to me."

Anna made no attempt to move her sister's hand. She just turned around and wrapped her own arm around Elsa's shoulders. "You're special to me too. Now, breakfast!"

And so, a grand breakfast was had. Fruits, cereals, toast, a sneaky piece of chocolate. An even sneakier sip of wine with the grape juice. Elsa envied the way her sister could truly enjoy—even relish—such moments. She also knew such envy was not fair on her part. Anna had suffered at least as much as she had, although her torment through the years had been of a less physical kind, it didn't make it any less valid. It was just—Elsa didn't know what it was. Possibly the fact that Anna was more open, showed her pain, let others help her deal with it.

The morning faded, and Elsa knew it was her fault. Literally. Clouds were obscuring the sun as she wheeled herself solemnly onwards, a few paces behind Anna. She was trying to keep her powers in check. That meant suppressing her emotions—something Elsa was trying emphatically _not_ to do these days. She had found a kind of compromise. That was the reason it was merely overcast instead of howling a gale with a blizzard bearing down on Arendelle. That compromise was Elsa telling herself it was okay to feel, but that what she felt had to be _happy_. Given where they were heading though, happy was not easy to come up with.

Anna informed her they were nearly there. Snow began drifting gently from the clouds overhead. Small flakes, floating and drifting as if they were as forlorn as Elsa. And maybe, Elsa thought, maybe they are. It's _my_ snow after all. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. The snow abated. A little. She didn't actually know how far her powers reached right now. She hoped it wasn't as far as when she'd run away.

Elsa could tell they were there even before Anna stopped. The standing stones were hard to miss. Two stones, rough hewn from the rocks of the mountains. Runes—names, carved on each. King… Queen… Elsa couldn't bring herself to read their names. To her they had always been Mama and Papa. They always would be. Not matter how old she got. No matter how old they might have gotten.

Elsa approached her mother's grave first. She knew it wasn't really a grave. Just a headstone. Her body was one with the sea now. But the stone was important. Symbolic. It anchored her spirit to home. If her spirit might ever return. Elsa found herself hoping it would. Just to see how much of a fine young lady Anna had become. Let her ignore the hurt, the pain Hans had inflicted on her daughters. Let her spirit know only the good that was left in them.

Anna placed the flower for Mama at the base of the stone. It was a Gentiana bloom—little more than a bud, the blue of its petals just starting to show. She missed what Anna was whispering, but caught the tears falling silently down her sister's face. It was clear both sisters knew the significance of the closed bloom. It was essentially the same thing Elsa had just hoped for, but expressed with much greater elegance. What the closed Gentiana bloom meant was this: Sweet be thy dreams.

Snow began to dust the gravestones, drifts building up against the base of each. Elsa took deep, shaky breaths. She couldn't calm herself down. If she couldn't get herself under control. If her morose feelings were allowed to continue too long—I'm still a danger, Elsa told herself. I have to keep it under control. But then how do I let go? How do I acknowledge the pain without it consuming me?

She thought she should be crying, but all Elsa felt was empty. There was grief, bereavement—then there was the numbness she was feeling, the snowfall slowing, seeming to hang in the air for longer and longer. She didn't know what to do, so she just talked.

"Mama, I really miss you. I know I think about Papa more, but you were important. Always. And you were there for Anna. I loved you for that too. I know you loved us both very much. Even if you had to go away, you still loved us. You still do. I hope. I guess you know everything that happened, but… well, I got through the coronation okay, but at the ball Anna stole my glove. She kept pushing me and pushing me, and I used my magic. I didn't mean to. It happened. So I had to run away.

"I had to. I left for the mountains. Everyone would be safe from me if I ran all the way up there, right? But they weren't. Nobody was. I covered all of Arendelle in winter. It must have been so cold. But I didn't know. I made an ice palace. I used my powers, and I was happy. Really, truly, happy. But then Anna came along. She told me what I'd done. She was just trying to help and… and…"

Elsa dragged herself out of the wheelchair, snow piling up around her, and pulled herself closer to Mama's gravestone. She wrapped her arms around it, the snow starting to fall lazily through the air again.

"I froze her heart Mama. I froze her heart! Then I slammed the doors in her face. Again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. But Kristoff… he found her. Saved her after what I'd done to her. Then the duke's men attacked me. They tried to kill me. I used my magic again. I had to. They forced me. I had to protect myself. Then there was Hans. He threw me in that cell—the special one. But I broke out. I broke out. It wasn't strong enough.

"Then he told me Anna was dead because of me. I froze her heart. I heard his sword. I knew what he wanted to do. And… and… and…" silent tears coursed down Elsa's face as she hugged her mother's gravestone. "I gave up. Like that. My life wasn't worth anything if Anna was dead. But she wasn't dead. I heard her scream. I felt something like fire down my back. Now… now my legs don't work. Anna lost her arm. But we have each other.

"That was what you always said right. 'As long as we have each other'?"

Elsa felt a warm hand placed against her shoulder, she looked up to see Anna smiling down at her through her own tears. The feisty red haired princess looked—proud, there was no other way Elsa could describe that look. But not proud of herself, Elsa understood. Anna was proud of her _sister_. The red haired princess patted her sister's shoulder, then stepped away again. There was one more thing Elsa had to do.

Elsa looked longingly at the stone, imagined their mother's face. Her soft smile and warm eyes. It was hardest thing to do. But what she had to say next—what she had to tell herself to accept—made that act of imagination even harder and more melancholy. The snowflakes hung motionless in the still air as Elsa saw her mother's face just in front of the gravestone. There was just one thing left to do now. Her tears had stopped, but Elsa's heart felt heavier than ever.

"Goodbye, Mom. I'll miss you."

This time there was no hand on her shoulder. Elsa slowly dragged herself back to her chair. Anna was sitting in the snow, knees drawn up to her chest, her arm wrapped around them. Snow dusted her hair and shoulders. Elsa could see the tears still in her sister's eyes. Could see the pain she was just barely holding back. Elsa had never realized just how much the death of their parents had put her sister though. She had been trapped in her own private world of misery and despair. She had forgotten other people had feelings—had feelings as deep and powerful as her own.

Elsa reached out to embrace her sister and was shocked to feel Anna's arm pushing her away. Anna, the sister who for so long had wanted nothing more than a little human contact from her best friend. The sister who insisted that all of things Elsa had done to her were accidental. The sister whose bed she had shared these past few nights. The same sister was pushing her away. Elsa wondered if this was how Anna had felt when she'd first been shut out of Elsa's room.

"No," Anna spoke softly, sobbing. "You can go. I'm breaking my promise. I never want to see you hurt like that. It's not fair! I can't help you!"

"What makes you so sure?" Elsa asked cryptically, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. Anna's hand came up instinctively to grab it. "What if just being here helps me?"

"How?"

"If I was on my own, do you think I could have said that. Do you think I could have stayed long enough to say even half of it?"

"Maybe?"

"It does help Anna, you being here. And I know it hurts you to see my pain, but I… I have to feel this pain. I have to experience the grief properly, or it's going to weigh me down forever. I can't begin to heal if I don't know what was hurting me all this time."

"Here," Anna rummaged in her pocket for something. It was a stone. Small. Rough. Three runes had been painstakingly carved on it. It looked painstaking. Elsa could tell her sister's craftsmanship anywhere.

"I can't," Elsa gently folded her sister's fingers back around the stone.

"Should," Anna sobbed. "You were his favourite."

"I can't," Elsa repeated, more emphatically. "Not alone."

Anna smiled through her tears, allowing Elsa to help her stand. "Together."

The sisters approached their father's gravestone. Elsa leaned forward and used a touch of her power to clear the snow. Anna knelt down and placed the stone, runes facing upward. She placed it next to another pair of stones, their runes slowly worn away by the intervening years. Without a word, Elsa pulled herself from her chair and sat stiffly on the ground, rearranging her legs into something resembling a cross-legged sitting position, forming a backrest of ice to keep herself upright. Hands in her lap, and with Anna sitting beside her, Elsa began to talk.

"It's… it's good to see you again Papa. I still think about you. I miss you. I wish I knew what you know. Being the queen is hard. Really hard. I wasn't ready for all this. I never was. I'm still struggling Papa. You always made it look so easy, but I know it wasn't. You were king, and Arendelle your kingdom. You would do anything to protect it. Even if it meant protecting it from _me_. I know you had to send everyone away because of me. I know how much it must have hurt you to do that.

"You were a good man, Papa. You never wanted me to hide like I did. You just wanted me to be safe. To keep my magic safe. I tried to. I really did, but secrets like that… I kept it bottled up for so long it grew and grew and grew. And finally, it broke the bottle I was keeping it in. At the ball. After Anna asked to marry Hans. My glove… she didn't mean to. I just wanted to get away. I just wanted to be alone. Again. That's when it broke. Now everyone knows—but they don't hate me. Not all of them.

"But I ran away. Far into the mountains. I could be a queen of my own little kingdom up there. Anna would be queen of Arendelle. She would be a nice queen. A good queen. Not like me. But she followed me. Always. She found me. Found my palace of ice. Told me what I'd done to my kingdom—my real kingdom, Arendelle. I was scared, stressed, angry. I ran away so everyone would be safe! Then Anna comes chasing me, and…

"Do you remember that night Papa, when I was eight? The first time. We rode all night to get to the trolls. You remember what they said? 'The heart is not so easily changed.' That's what they said. That's what I did because I was scared and angry. It was an accident, but I froze Anna's heart"—Elsa felt her sister gently take her arm, twine their fingers together and squeeze—"but she still loves me. She always did. She saved my life Papa. She was the brave one. Even with just one arm she's bolder and braver than me. Than I ever was.

"She's too good for me Papa. After everything I've done, after everything I said—she still loves me. I don't deserve such a wonderful sister. She shouldn't be burdened with someone like—oww, Anna!—someone like me. She shouldn't have been hurt. She should be free, free to live how she wants, not having to take care of me. Hans took my legs from me. His sword across my back. They don't work anymore. And Anna's arm… before she froze… before she saved my life… I just want you to know something Papa.

"You helped raise an amazing young woman. Brave, bold, fearless, open, full of wonder, full of warmth. Full of love. Then there's me. But I'm not your fault. And I'm trying to change. To be better. To look for help. To accept help from others. That's why I'm here. Anna's here too, she promised me. She'd stop me if I tried to run away. But I don't feel like running anymore Papa. Running away just made me tired. And sad. And alone. And now I know it was never the answer. Anna was the answer. She showed me. You don't run from your fears. You hold your ground. You turn and face them. Head on. You weather the storm. No matter how much it hurts, you hold your ground in the face of your fears. Always."

Her speech finished, Elsa drew in a deep, calming breath. It actually felt calming. Another breath. She heard something in the still air. A quiet sobbing. Her right hand was twined with Anna's left. It was Anna, crying softly into the snow.

"That was…" Anna sniffled before starting again. "That was beautiful Elsa."

Elsa leaned over, toppled sideways, reaching out to hug her sister. Anna's braids fell across the top of view. Her smile was worth it. Lying there in the snow, Elsa discovered part of herself she hadn't known about before. A part of her heart full of kindness and mischief. A part of her that would do anything to see Anna smile. Because her sister was worth it. Wordlessly, Anna helped Elsa upright, sitting against the ice again. Elsa placed her hands in her lap, took a minute to compose herself.

She took a deep breath.

Another.

She had one last thing to say. She had to mean it. It weighed heavily in her heart, but she knew that once she said it, accepted it, that weight would ease. She felt Anna shuffle closer, drape her arm lazily over her shoulders. She felt Anna lean against her shoulder. The closeness didn't feel awkward this time. It felt normal. Just two sisters, helping each other through their grief.

"I never blamed you," Elsa spoke to the gravestone, imagining her father's face. It was harder to see than her mother's. More than his face, Elsa remembered her father's bearing, his poise, the clothes that made the man. The one prized possession he had that he'd taken to the grave with him. A gold cross, suspended on a thick red ribbon. Before he was king, he had served Arendelle. Had served with distinction. That medal was proof. The Star of Arendelle, for outstanding gallantry in defense of the realm. That was what Elsa remembered most. That was also, probably, where Anna got her courage from. From Papa. Elsa wished she had more of her own to call upon.

"What happened…" Elsa tried again. "It wasn't your fault Papa. I loved you, even if I couldn't show it. I hated not being able to touch you, or mom. I hated being afraid of hurting people. But I loved you. I always did. I always have. I always will. No matter what happens, I still love you. Even if… even if"—Elsa took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting to hold back the tears until she had finished speaking—"even if I have to say goodbye."

A weight felt like it was lifting inside Elsa's heart. A weight that had borne her down for so long. And as it lifted, so did the snow. As Anna stroked her hair, Elsa watched as the clouds overhead slowly broke apart. The sun began to shine again, warm and brilliant against the fallen snow.

* * *

**AN:** I've created a monster. This is my largest chapter yet. Possibly ever. As always, comments and reviews are most welcome. And if anyone happens to put a FanFicRec up on tvtropes (I mean, only if it's good enough), well, I wouldn't say no to that sort of kindness. Also, if anyone has any Fanart they want to show off, I'm still looking for a good cover for this story.


	11. Summer Snow

Snow still covered the ground in small drifts, a warm summer breeze driving it slowly to the east. The sun shone through dappled clouds, casting vague shadows across the hills north of Arendelle. Across those hills walked two sisters. One walked, the other fought to drive her wheelchair onward, chasing the first. Snow suddenly fell on the first sister, tripping her, red braids flying as she tumbled into the grass and snow.

"That's cheating," she mock-whined as the wheelchair rolled past. She was already rising from the snow, giving chase. She managed to grab the rail at the back of her sister's chair on the third try, nearly sending both of them sprawling as she turned the chair to the side.

"Like that's not?" The blonde sister replied as the redhead sprinted past. But she laughed. A happy laugh. The kind of laughter her kingdom hadn't heard in thirteen years. Still laughing, she made a ramp of ice for the chair, rocketing down the hill. She missed the tiny rock at the end of her ramp. Her chair didn't. The queen of Arendelle found herself suddenly free of any earthly restraints. Disturbingly free.

In that moment, Elsa realized she had gone flying from her chair, and had seconds before she hit the ground. Hard. A wave of her arms conjured a massive pile of snow. She turned her head sideways and closed her eyes. It still hurt. But not nearly as much as plowing into the ground would have at that speed. Her arms wouldn't move. She could still _feel_ them, but they were pinned by the snow. Elsa didn't know how large she'd made her cushion of snow.

She felt herself moving, a jerky, uncoordinated movement. Progress was being made, she felt her fingers slip free. Wrists. Arms. Her chest. Suddenly she was sprawled on top of Anna, the red haired princess somewhat roughly pushing her aside, gasping for breath.

"You weigh. A ton."

Elsa stared at her sister and raised an eyebrow. "You really think that?"

"Just lemme–let me cat–catch my breath. I just sprint down a hill. After you g–go flying. Then snow everywhere. And, and… Elsa, it was like one of those plays. Just your legs–your legs sticking out, and…" Anna couldn't finish the sentence, she was laughing too hard. It took her a minute to calm down. Several minutes. "I'm glad you're okay. But just, I pulled you out of the snow, and you had to land right on top of me. Right here"—Anna thumped her solar plexus—"felt like a reindeer sat on me."

"Really?" Elsa whined humorously. "First you call me fat, then you compare me to a _reindeer?_"

"Hey, I—oh," Anna smiled. "I could have called you Marshmallow instead."

"Oh–oh, you did not just go there!"

Anna laughed as the chase resumed, Elsa conjuring a new chair from the abundant snow. It was good to see her sister laugh. To show her that there were times when she could set her responsibilities aside and just play. Just be. Anna hoped Elsa knew that that was enough. That it was all she'd ever really wanted. Anna imagined them building a snowman later, let her mind run free.

Which was why the first snowball almost knocked her senseless. And also sent snow sliding down the inside of the collar of her dress. The second snowball sailed wide. Anna's own retaliatory strike fell from her hands when she saw a carrot in the distance. A carrot that somehow seemed to be getting closer. Definitely getting closer.

"Olaf?" the sisters asked in unison.

"Hi Anna. Hi Elsa," Olaf jumped as he waved, making sure he could be seen. "Hmm, funny to have a blizzard in summer. Hey, Elsa, do you know where all this snow is coming from?"

"Olaf."

"Okay, fine. I know it's you. And it's really fun. All the kids are making snowmen. But there's some shouting by the docks, and I was supposed to tell you something… but I forgot. I don't think it was important."

"Olaf?" Anna asked just loudly enough for Elsa to hear. "How did you find us?"

"I always find you," Olaf smiled at the red haired princess. "I just look in my heart, and there you are. Hey, are you sure you don't want to borrow my arm?"

Olaf was once again holding out his arm, measuring it against Anna's stump. Anna took the arm gently, then placed it back on the snowman.

"I'm sorry Olaf, but people aren't made that way."

"Oh. Umm, I guess I need to find out how people are made then."

This drew a quiet guffaw from the queen. Anna just looked shocked.

"What?" Olaf asked, looking at both of them. "What did I say?"

Elsa only laughed louder at this. Anna regained some of her composure and replied.

"It's nothing Olaf. We'll tell you later," of course, along with Elsa, she had no desire to tell the little snowman _anything_ about 'how people were made'. He'd probably forget it before noon. The sisters certainly hoped he would—mostly because it would prove to be one of the most disturbingly awkward conversations either of them could ever imagine. It fell just short of eventually having to tell their own offspring the same thing.

"You came to get us for something, Olaf?" Elsa prompted.

"Oh, that's right!" the little snowman danced around happily. "Kristoff and Sven are looking for you two. Well, looking for Anna I guess. They're at the castle now. And wow, this really is a _lot_ of snow for summer."

Olaf looked up at the largest pile of snow again. Looked at Elsa. Looked up at the snow. The small, roughly queen shaped hole. Looked at Elsa again. Noticed she was smiling at his confusion.

"You can _fly?_" he asked after looking up at the pile of snow one last time.

"No, Olaf. I can't fly."

"Then how did… wait, did Marshmallow throw you!?"

"No, Olaf. My chair hit something when I was racing down the hill. That sent me flying," Elsa immediately regretted her choice of words.

"So you _can_ fly," Olaf's voice was full of secret triumph. "I _knew_ it!"

"No I—" Elsa cut herself off. Why not let Olaf think she could fly? It was going to be difficult to convince him otherwise right now. Let him have his fun. And let Anna have hers too, if Kristoff was looking for her.

"Anna, why don't you go with Olaf and meet Kristoff. I'll make my own way back to the castle."

"You're sure you'll be okay, it's quite far."

"I made it this far," Elsa smiled at her sister's concern for her. "If I'm not chasing you I won't have to go as fast. Maybe I'll even spend some time in the town, see what people think of this snow?"

"I read some of those letters Elsa. If you go to the wrong places… I…"

"I'll be fine Anna. If it gets that bad—and I hope it _never_ does—I can just freeze anyone trying to hurt me. Now go, have a good time with Kristoff. And if you do _things_ to each other, don't tell me. Ever."

"Eww, Elsa," Anna screwed up her face in disgust, slowly walking away. "Firstly, we're not that close yet. I mean, I don't think we are. We've hugged, we kissed—he doesn't taste like reindeer, but I think I might have told you already—and sometimes he tries looking down my dress. Or through my dress. When he thinks I'm not looking. So Sven says something, and gives up the game. And he's my boyfriend and maybe one day we'll do things… but why would I tell you anyway?"

"Because you tell me _everything_," Elsa teased. "Even when I don't want to know."

"Oh, I—no I don—you don't know _everything_."

"And I hope I never do," Elsa poked her tongue out at her sister, then waved a brief farewell. Anna half ran, half skipped behind Olaf. Elsa watched them go, then headed for the town of Arendelle.

Time to see just how much damage her latest bout of emotional weather had inflicted. By the time she reached the outskirts of town Elsa saw the snow already melting. It was just a few drifts here and there, nothing like that night. A few snowmen were melting in the summer sun, dissolving into puddles. Aside from a few offhand comments, no one paid any heed to the supernatural weather. Elsa began to wonder if this was the same Arendelle she had left, or if this was a strangely pleasant kind of dream-town and she had yet to wake up. Something pinched her arm.

Elsa reacted instantly, unable to see the threat. A wall of ice surrounded her chair, cutting her off from the street. She looked around slowly, trying to find out who had touched her. All she could see were the children, suddenly afraid. A few of the townsfolk stopped and stared at her icy shield. Stopped and stared at the child she had inadvertently trapped in the ice. With a gasp of shock, Elsa tried to undo the magic. She could see the child struggling to free his arm. Could see his slowly rising panic.

Closing her eyes, Elsa took a deep, calming breath. The child wasn't hurt. Wasn't frozen. This wasn't Anna. Elsa exhaled, letting the concern and love she had always felt for Anna flow through her, through the ice she just made. The wall dissolved into a pile of snowflakes, and the suddenly freed child ran from the queen. Ran as fast as he could. Elsa took another deep breath before resting her head in her hands. How could she have… if the child had actually been hurt… I have to _think_ before using my magic, Elsa told herself. Think of the consequences. But how could I know it was just a child, not someone trying to hurt me?

And as that thought floated through her mind, Elsa found something disturbing in herself. In the heat of the moment, she _couldn't_ tell the difference. Couldn't tell the difference between a playful child and a vengeful attacker. Someone placed their hand on her shoulder. Elsa couldn't help herself. It just happened. But she did have just enough self control to turn it to snow instead of ice. The hand left her shoulder, and Elsa turned around slowly.

The man she faced was tall. Taller even than her Papa had been. He had a lean figure, a narrow, distinguished face, and a pained smile. He was also in uniform. Navy blue, gold trim, epaulets, cutlass held in an ivory scabbard at his right hip. A marine. One of Arendelle's Royal Marines. And she had all but buried in him snow. Snow he was gently brushing off his shoulders and out of his hair.

"I wasn't expecting a reception _this_ icy from the Snow Queen," he spoke with good grace and a touch of sly humour. "But I guess it was in the name."

Elsa found herself blushing, not entirely sure why. "Please don't call me that."

"Then what should I call you, your majesty?" the man asked, kneeling before her and taking her hand, kissing her middle finger. It was the way a subject would normally greet a royal, so why did Elsa suddenly feel so awkward. Was it the fact he did it in the middle of the street. Was it the fact he did it without a hint of irony or insincerity. Or was it the fact he had reached to touch her, again, after being metaphorically burned just moments ago for the same thing?

"Elsa. Queen Elsa. I…" Elsa was lost for words. Had she been going say something else? She couldn't remember. The man, marine, in front of her stood, and bowed, introducing himself as if they were at a formal party.

"Lieutenant Henrik Erikson, of the Third Arendelle Royal Marine Fusiliers."

"Fusiliers?" Elsa asked. She didn't know much of Arendelle's military, save that it had one. It had been one of the things Papa had been teaching her about before… before he died.

"Riflemen, you majesty. Trained in musketry drill."

"Lieutenant Erikson?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Would you see me safely to the castle, if you have no other duties discharge this morning."

"Certainly, your majesty. Do you require my services as an escort or as locomotion?"

"An escort. You know, Lieutenant, you are the first person to approach me in the open here without showing the slightest hint of fear."

"What if I'm merely very good at hiding my fears. One learns to do so quickly on the field of battle."

"If you were afraid of me, you would never have touched me in the first place."

"A sound deduction, your majesty, but ultimately false. I was, indeed, afraid of you. But I also saw that you were—I hope this does not sound too presumptuous—afraid of yourself. I am certain that young boy shall be fine. He will have a most exciting story to regale his friends with when he calms down."

"Are you always this stiff and formal?" Elsa found it intriguing that Lieutenant Erikson was so well spoken and well mannered, and never seemed to let his speech slip. It was completely opposed to the way she and Anna talked. Different too to how Kristoff spoke—when he spoke at all.

"Not all the time. I am, however, with royalty at this moment. My mother drilled into me long ago the importance of manners when addressing people who far outrank you in society. You, your majesty, outrank myself, a mere soldier, by several orders of magnitude. I could, if you prefer, try to speak as I do with my marines, but I fear that would be far too crude for royal ears."

"You haven't heard Anna during a good rant," Elsa muttered.

"Pardon, your majesty?"

"Nothing, lieutenant Erikson. I was just thinking of my sister."

"Ah, yes, Princess Anna. I had heard of the—family dispute—that went with the weather. I also heard much about this prince from the Southern Isles. May I enquire as to the health of your sister?"

"You may, lieutenant Erikson. And you should be pleased to hear that she is as healthy and happy and annoying as she ever was. Losing her arm has not seemed to slow her down. If anything, it has forced her to move faster. To try and do more every day. I get the distinct impression she's trying compensate for something."

"I am sure she will calm down within a few days. The activity is likely to do her good—it works well for injured soldiers, why should it not work for an injured princess?"

"Princess Anna… calm down," Elsa repeated slowly. "Using those words in the same sentence. Clearly, you don't know my sister."

"No, I do not. Neither do I presume to know you, your majesty. I am just serving as humble member of Arendelle's finest, escorting the queen regnant to her throne."

They were nearing the gates of the castle. Elsa just had one question left for the man escorting her. "Lieutenant Erikson, why did you reach out for me?"

"I ha—Because I saw a young woman suffering."

"That's it?" Elsa was more than a little surprised.

"Should I, as an officer and a gentleman, need more reason than that to reach out and attempt to help my queen. Should I need more reason than that to reach out and attempt to help anyone?"

"No," Elsa replied softly. "That is as fine and noble a reason as any. Arendelle needs more men like you, lieutenant Erikson."

"You flatter me, your majesty," lieutenant Erikson bowed. "I have borne you safely home. With your leave, I shall find myself dismissed."

"Thank you, lieutenant, for your services. Also, I wish to thank you for an illuminating conversation."

"Certainly, your majesty. If you have need of my services again, you may find me through the Third Fusiliers. Fare thee well."

As lieutenant Erikson walked away, Elsa cocked her head. It might have been the way he was walking, or the pants, perhaps. It might even have been that he was in—immaculate—uniform. Whatever the reason, it left Elsa with a desire to be alone—very alone—and not for the usual reasons she wanted to be alone either. A sly grin tugging at the corner of her mouth, Elsa wheeled herself into the castle grounds. The first council session was due to start in a little over an hour, and then, she was going to do some more research on this lieutenant Erikson.

* * *

**AN:** Okay, so it's kinda light and fluffy. Honestly, chapter ten burned out my darkness/angst driven writing. At least, for a little while.

And as to the anonymous reviewer who asked if it was going to be Elsanna, I posit this: Is it Elsanna if Anna doesn't know? ;)


	12. A Council Divided

Elsa sat at the head of the council chamber, a large second floor meeting room with a massive oaken table at the centre. Around it sat the prior ruling council, now set to serve the kingdom in an advisory role. Six people, in addition to her. Not truly remembering her conversations from the previous day, Elsa asked for a brief introduction from each of them.

"Per Johanssen, Minister of Trade," a lean, almost skeletal elder man replied. He looked almost cadaverously thin, but Elsa knew that not to be the case normally. He had confided in her the previous afternoon—during his fencing match against Kai—that he was recently recovering from a grave illness. He had been bold enough to joke that it was due to her cutting trade with Weaseltown. Weselton, he had corrected her. He and the duke of that country had often been at odds, but the trade was indeed valuable, so he'd had to play nice, he explained. It was the one thing that had stuck in her mind from the previous afternoon.

"Markus Gerhardt, Marshal of Arendelle," that was the man with the gold braid on a black jacket. He also had a close cropped beard, and the short hair that was becoming the norm for military men. While he had been a soldier, Elsa could see he was not one now. Slightly overweight, and a bearing that demanded respect, even if he might not have earned it.

"Stefan Larsson, Official Scribe," a younger man than the rest of the council, he would have been sharply dressed, if not for the fact his suit was a size too small. It was obviously inherited from someone with a slighter stature. It made Elsa wonder Larsson normally did for a living.

"Bishop Clarence Gudbrand," a man Elsa already knew. Admittedly, she didn't know him well, but she knew him from when he had been first appointed to the role, eight years ago.

"Søren 'Raske' Skjeggestad, Guildsman," this came from a man of average build but towering height, making him seem rather lean. He had a magnificent red beard, and unruly, wiry hair tied up in a short tail. A large hammer hung from a loop on his belt. Elsa figured that aside from her, this man was likely the most powerful person in the room. All the guilds answered to him. Blacksmith, silversmith, the ice harvesters, even the farmers might be under his domain. Elsa knew she'd have to enquire further at some point.

"Hanne Kristoffersen, High Justicar," another of the elder statesmen on the council. Elsa considered him overweight, and somewhat overbearing, from what she could remember of their first meeting. He was an honest man however, and the only ones who voiced complaints against him had been those he sent to the jail. He must doing something right, Elsa thought quietly, making a mental note to look up more about his career later.

"Vanja Ostberg-Lang, Advisor," the only other woman in the room said briskly. Tall, blonde, with green eyes, and a habit of dressing in fur regardless of the season.

"Thank you all for coming," Elsa started. "As I outlined to each of you yesterday the pressures of being queen have weighed upon me heavily this past week. I know that my father did not rule alone—a fact I often took for granted—and I have discovered that I may not have strength enough to rule alone either. Even if I did have the strength, I no longer desire the ability to rule alone. Arendelle needs help, I need help. It truly is that simple."

Elsa turned to the trade minister, Johanssen, first. "If you have had time to read the reports, who would you recommend establishing ties with that best benefit us?"

"I would venture either Spain, for their supply of exotic foods and festivals, or possibly Corona, for the debt owed us during the Great Search."

"Nothing of France, or the Isles?"

"France may be closer than Spain, your majesty, but in the long run Spain's goods will be more valuable as commodities we can trade further afield. As to the Isles, we all know of what transpired last time the Southern Isles sent an envoy—although you have asked for another, we feel it prudent to warn you to be on your guard with southerners. The Western Isles, however, remain as aloof as ever. If a trade treaty of some kind were possible, it would most likely have to be negotiated either in, or with, Corona."

"I see," Elsa nodded, taking all this in as best she could. "Thank you minister Johanssen. Now, Guildsman Skjeggestad—"

"Please, call me Raske, or Søren, if you prefer."

"—very well, Guildsman Søren, is there anything the guilds wish to put forth at this time—aside from the obvious?"

"No, your majesty. The guilds are content with their lot. For now. I'm sure they'll think of something to annoy us with sooner or later. I do apologize for that man from the ice harvesters' guild the other day. He was out of line. Although, I admit I did share his sentiments, I did not share his boldness in voicing them so directly."

"I—Thank you, Søren. I appreciate your candor. Justicar Kristoffersen, do the courts have anything of import for this meeting?"

The Justicar simply shook his head.

"Very well, Bishop Gudbrand?"

"I have had to set a few misguided souls straight this past week. People calling you a witch, spawn of Chernaborg, and things much worse. I must admit to having some degree of trepidation about your powers myself, your majesty. You were born with them, as we have been informed, so we know it is not possible for you to be rid of them—at least, not without being rid of you as well, and that is something neither I, nor most of Arendelle desires."

"Most… of Arendelle?"

"There are a few people that are convinced your powers are a manifestation of your evil. It pains me to tell you so, but such people still live in this town."

Elsa leaned back in her chair. Well, it wasn't like she expected the whole world to like her. It was enough that Anna liked her. That Kristoff could live with her and her powers. And it wasn't like the townsfolk were trying to burn her at the stake—and what had the bishop just said?

"Excuse me," Elsa interrupted bishop Gudbrand. "But could you repeat that last part?"

"Oh, uh, certainly your majesty. I was saying that in one of the houses on the outskirts of town we found what was clearly an effigy of you. We found a large stake nearby, and piles of tinder and logs. It seems clear what they meant to do."

"And have you found them?" Elsa asked, suddenly worried.

"Unfortunately not. I have a feeling they fled town not long after your proclamation. I hope they find sanctuary in some other place. Where their fear of you is a danger to no one but themselves."

"Marshal Gerhardt?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Is there anything the military needs at this moment?" Elsa led with an appeasing question. "And is it possible to track these men the bishop spoke of?"

"Aside from a little house cleaning, which has been in order for some time, the military of Arendelle is in good shape. What little of it there is. Four Royal Marine companies, all understrength. Two battalions of foot Guards. A single platoon of the Royal Artillery. We lack soldiers, your majesty, that is the simple truth of the matter. As a kingdom Arendelle is simply not that important in the military sphere. We have fine warships, of course, and a coastal fort. But we lack soldiers enough to defend what we have, let alone to try and take what belongs to anyone else."

"So, what you are really saying then, Marshal, is that Arendelle has almost no military power, that our military is in dire straits if it were ever to be put into action?"

"While I am sure each and every soldier would give a good account of himself in battle, it is true. But, excuse me for being presumptuous in this case, our most powerful weapon sits at the head of this very table. You alone could freeze an invading fleet. You could bury any army with a great avalanche. Create a fortress of impregnable ice—like rumours say exist on the North—"

"Enough!" Elsa snapped, slamming her fist down on the table. Fractal skeins of ice shot halfway down the burnished wood before Elsa managed to bring her anger under control. To some degree. She was still angry enough to bite off every word when she was calm enough to speak again.

"I. Am. Not. A. Weapon!" the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. All of the council members shivered, staring at Elsa with naked fear. Elsa wished she could stand, make a statement by leaning half way over the able and whispering coldly to Marshal Gerhardt. But, she couldn't, so she settled for the next best thing—she calmed down. Papa always told her that a calm word while angry was worth more than a thousand angry screams.

"For the last twenty years I have fought to keep my powers secret. I have held myself back from everything normal people have. I drove away even those people I cared for most. I did this so I. Would. Not. Hurt. Them. Understand this, Marshal Gerhardt, for I will only say it once. I have fought for so long to _avoid_ my powers hurting anyone, that to do so deliberately would most likely destroy me as a person. Yet, you suggested it so casually—and no, I will not excuse your presumptuousness for such a statement. It flies in the face of everything a queen is supposed to be.

"A _good_ queen," Elsa stressed, fighting to keep her anger in check. Nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed with icy fury, the platinum haired, wheelchair bound, and ultimately terrifying queen of Arendelle pointed to the door of the council chamber. "Get. Out."

Marshal Gerhardt didn't offer so much as a bow as he left. All eyes darted between him and Elsa. The screech of his chair against the wooden floor drowned out any sound. The marshal stepped away from the table, moving as fast as decorum allowed. As the door closed behind him they could all hear rapidly receding footsteps. Elsa let out a heavy sigh, crossed her arms on the edge of the table, and lay her head against them.

Her very first council meeting, and she'd blown it. Maybe she should have tried ruling alone a little longer. Then she could have gone mad, and Anna could have—no, I wouldn't wish that on Anna, Elsa told herself. I wouldn't even wish this on my enemies. I would—the thought cut off as Elsa felt someone gently place a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see who it was, blinking back angry tears. Why couldn't these people leave her alone?

It was Søren. There was genuine concern on his face, and no small amount of fear either. But he had taken the chance. He had reached out to her. Elsa appreciated that. Was teaching herself to be able to appreciate the kindness of others. Whether or not she felt she deserved it at the time.

"Your majesty," Elsa hadn't noticed how deep Søren's voice was before. Or how soothing. "Queen Elsa, are you alright?"

"No, I'm not. Can't you all see that?" Elsa shook her hands at them in frustration. "I'm not fit to be queen. I keep messing things up."

"I should probably not tell you of my first week as a blacksmith then," Søren stage whispered. The other council members chuckled. It was a good story, whenever it was told.

"No one needs hear of my first diplomatic mission, back in eighteen-oh-five," Per added conspiriatorally.

"Or what happened when I tried to christen the Magnusson's third daughter," Bishop Gudbrand intoned dramatically. "The holy vestments had to be re-holied that week."

Elsa found herself starting to laugh. Then Justicar Kirstoffersen spoke. "And none shall hear of wig-powder and gavel/cream fiasco."

That was too much. Elsa had no idea what these incidents actually _were_, but they sounded, well, hilarious. And if her council could laugh with her—or was it at her?—so freely after such a display of her powers, well, maybe they didn't think she was that much of a screw-up. In fact, she realized, they had just been telling her that they too had screwed up, in impressive and amusing ways when they were just starting—and then Elsa understood. She understood what her council understood. They knew she would be a good queen, they also knew she wasn't there yet. They were telling her it was okay to mess up sometimes. To lose control a little bit.

That would explain the little drifts of snow piling up in the corner. With a little concentration Elsa managed to dispel the magic, thawing the table as well. The air remained a little chilly, but no one commented on that. Taking a deep breath gave Elsa a second to compose herself before speaking.

"I would li—No, I _have_ to to apologize for my outburst. Marshal Gerhardt hit a nerve with his rather insensitive comments, but the rest of you did not, should not have been in the line of fire as well. I saw the way you looked at me then—I know my powers can be frightening—but I also saw the way you tried to compare it to your first experiences with real responsibility. I would like to thank all of you for that. My control over my powers is better these days, but I'm still learning. And emotion still drives the extremes of my magic."

"Your majesty," Vanja Ostberg-Lang spoke up at last, having remained silent the entire meeting. "While your loss of control was indeed frightening, it was not, ultimately, unjustified. Marshal Gerhardt did, in fact, compare you to a tool. He called you a weapon, forgetting even for a moment that you are a person, equal to any other here. I am sure other members of the council wished to lash out at him as well"—Elsa saw Søren and Minister Johanssen shifting uncomfortably—"but they knew it was not their place. It was you the Marshal insulted. Thus, you had first right of redress against that slight.

"I will personally admit to being quite inspired by your speech," Vanja added, after everyone had taken their seats again. "Now, with everyone a little calmer and wiser, I assume that you, your majesty, will wish to divide the minutiae of ruling amongst the eligible members of this council?"

"Oh…" Elsa breathed, her brain scrambling to catch up to what had just been said. "Yes. Yes, I should delegate. Minister Johanssen, as you will be negotiating a trade treaty with Spain on my behalf, I assume you will wish to cover any current and future correspondence—if you consider yourself healthy enough?"

"Certainly, your majesty. Trade negotiations have been my life. I fear I've let them fall by the wayside recently with my illness. Well, no time like the present to get started. I'll arrange with the staff to get the appropriate items delivered to my office."

"There's an office here, if you prefer."

"I will take that into consideration. A gracious offer your majesty, but for the time being I would feel more comfortable working in my own offices."

"Very well, the offer remains open until you decide which would be better," Elsa nodded noncommittally, turning to Søren next. "Guildsman Søren, I must assume you already liaise with the castle's craftsmen, along with the rest of Arendelle. My summer storm has caused minor damage across the town, and while most people are content to put up a few extra boards themselves—"

"Queen Elsa, I have been handling most of those claims myself—well, via the guilds—the paperwork we have been sending you is mostly bills of trade and materials. Simply asking for recompense for what has been used out of our own stocks that we ourselves cannot replenish. I know it seems a lot, but the guilds have been at loggerheads recently, and I am still trying to get them to talk with each other. Like civilized people. If, by some miracle, I manage to do that, the amount of paperwork sent your way will drop considerably."

"Thank you Søren. Now, Justicar Kristoffersen?"

"Ah yes, I thought you might ask. I have a trio of very capable assistants I can put on most disputes and issues of public order. Plus, they kept complaining how quiet it was since you were made queen. They'll regret those words," the Justicar rubbed his hands together with glee, a machiavellian smile spreading across his face. "Too quiet for their own good, oh yes…"

"That actually solves a lot of problems," Elsa admitted, silently thanking the Justicar. "Lastly, Bishop Gudbrand. These letters, these hateful notes piling up on my desk, would you help me deal with them?"

"How, your majesty?"

"With your next sermon. Perhaps dropping some not so subtle hints that not all magic is evil. I hear of these 'miracles' in your good book. Could my powers be one?"

"I… I am certain I can find some suitable allegory about the nature of hate, and the nature of love, and how being different is not always a bad thing."

Elsa looked over the faces of everyone still in the room. They were calm but determined. They would do their very best to make sure she could do her very best. It was enough for now. "Is there anything else?"

Shaking heads and quick statements informed her that was all. "Excellent. We will reconvene in… a week?"

"A week," they confirmed. Vanja Ostberg-Lang added: "Will we be inviting Marshal Gerhardt back?"

Elsa sighed. "Yes. We will. I, of all people, should know the value of second chances. So I'll give him a chance to apologize. To make amends. And if he still acts up, well, as queen, I have the power to install a new Marshal, correct?"

"Correct," Vanja Ostberg-Lang assured her. "Though you do not want to be too hasty. Arendelle has few enough men with Gerhardt's experience in her military ranks. Fewer still with his ability to lead men in battle."

"Noted," Elsa said solemnly as they all filed out of the council chamber. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a sister to find."

* * *

**AN:** Ah, the joys of committee meetings. I think that's the most OC's I've ever made for anything that wasn't a full on novel.


	13. Looking In

**AN:** I have fifty followers. Umm, more than fifty. I'm still asking myself how that happened, considering I started this as a little side project to overcome awesomeness withdrawal from Frozen. I mean, it's amazing that more than fifty people here like my work that much, I just never expected it. So thanks; thanks for showing me what a great community FanFiction really is.

* * *

Anna finally admitted it to herself. She was, in fact, having fun. Not just because they were currently chasing each other through the edge of the forest either. She was having fun because she was with Kristoff, not Elsa. And that thought stopped her cold. So cold, in fact, that she was blindsided by Kristoff's tackle, both of them sprawling in the loamy soil beneath the trees. Anna's eyes were a little unfocused.

"Anna, princess Anna?" Kristoff immediately became concerned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Anna laughed it off, already dusting herself down as she stood. "Just lost in thought."

"I thought that was your sister's thing?"

"I was just thinking about us. You and me. Me and her. You and her. And I—well, I don't know—I'm…"

"It's okay," Kristoff placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He managed to get away with placing the other at her waist. "I mean, I really do like you, a lot. And your sister—queen Elsa, when she's not… well—not being all queen-y, she seems alright. Am I supposed to like her?"

"We did get you a new sled."

"Which, don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for, but it was kind of expected, seeing as how you had a hand in destroying my old one."

"So you need a real reason to like Elsa?" Anna took a deep breath, walking towards the fields beyond the forest. "Fine. Because she's my sister."

"But I—umm, how can I put this?"

"Carefully?" Anna suggested, her tone light.

"I don't know if I like your sister. I mean, I kind of have to like queen Elsa—she's the queen. But regular Elsa?" Kristoff began thoughtfully "I don't even know her beyond a few words. I don't even know you that well either—but I like you, and I _want_ to get to know you."

"So why don't you want to get to know Elsa?"

"I do!" Kristoff complained. "That's the problem."

"Why is that a problem?" Anna asked from the edge of the woods.

"Because I'm afraid."

"You're scared of her? Her powers? I can't beli—"

"No, no, not like that. I'm afraid of you."

Anna couldn't help but laugh. A deep belly laugh that went on and on. She put her hand out, her right hand—again—and fell headfirst against the nearest tree. She looked up at the tree as if it had betrayed her, and not her instincts. "Ow."

Then she looked at Kristoff, now helping her up. "But why would you be afraid of _me?_"

"I saw how you handled Hans of the Southern Isles. Don't want to be on the receiving end of that. Also, I was afraid you might get jealous."

"Huh?"

"Ice is my _life_, Anna. I'm an ice harvester. I can do a little sculpture. Still rough. But your sister—uhh, Elsa, her ice is… well, you saw the palace. I meant what I said."

"Still not getting it," and honestly, she wasn't. Being stuck in a castle—even if she could roam the grounds freely—for thirteen years meant subtlety was often lost on her. She talked with portraits far more than she'd ever read. Elsa never has these problems, she thought to herself. No, another voice said. She has new ones now, but she lets you help.

"Fine," Kristoff sighed heavily, looking the one-armed, red haired princess in her bright blue eyes. "I'm afraid I might like your sister more than you."

Anna thumped him square in the chest. "Don't be silly. No one likes my sister more than m—oh. Oh. I get it now. Uhh, sorry, did I hit you hard?"

"It's okay," Kristoff lied, massaging his chest and wincing. The princess of Arendelle really was surprisingly strong.

"Sorry I hit you like that," Anna apologized, gently rubbing Kristoff's chest where she hit him. "It's just… I love my sister. I really do. I'd do anything for her, but I guess you already know that. You saw me on the ice. Saw what Hans—anyway, you know, right?"

"I know," Kristoff replied, gently moving Anna's hand away from his chest. "Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"Why the black dress today?"

"Oh, uhh," Anna looked at herself, the sleeves of her dress and hem of the skirt. She'd forgotten what she was wearing, and Kristoff hadn't brought it up when they met in town. It hadn't seemed important at the time. "Well, I was helping Elsa say goodbye this morning. Umm, it was to—we were—you remember, umm—our parents, the king and queen?"

Kristoff knew. Everyone knew about the accident. It was one of the darkest days in the kingdom's history. To lose the king and queen on the same day. Anna went there today, Kristoff was starting to put things together in his head. With Elsa. And they said goodbye, and… "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Anna looked puzzled.

"Your parents. It was today, wasn't it?"

"No, a few weeks later. It's just, well, Elsa wanted—needed to say goodbye. She never did before. She didn't even know where the graves were and that's… well that was the saddest part," Anna could feel tears welling up. "Three years. She didn't ask once. And I didn't think to tell her. What kind of sister am I?"

"The good kind. I mean, you're taking care of her, right?" Kristoff tried to be soothing. "You're helping her. With everything you can. I know how much you love her, and that's why… well, that's why I've tried to take you away from her as little as possible. I feel like—sometimes I feel—well, I guess… it's kinda like I don't want to be the guy—umm, I don't want you to have to choose."

"Choose?" Anna sniffled a little, wiping away her tears.

"I mean, between her, or me," Kristoff clarified. "I mean, obviously I'd lose that one. But it might hurt you, and I don't ever want to hurt you like that, because I love you."

Kristoff's jaw dropped when he realized what he'd just said. He hadn't meant to say it quite like that. To be that forthcoming. He couldn't take it back either. It was true. The ice harvester just stood there, frozen. Until Anna reached up to kiss him on the cheek. All the worries melted away.

"I think I love you too," Anna whispered in his ear, then playfully slapped him on the back, before running into the woods. "Now let's see if you can catch your true love before she gets away again."

Late afternoon found Anna and Kristoff lying beneath the trees, staring through the leaves at the patches of sky they could see through the canopy. They had a lot of fun, playing hide and seek, chasing, tag—at which Sven was apparently an expert, and several games of Anna's own invention. Most of which involved lots of running, laughing, and general chaos. She was still picking a few twigs out of her braids from the last game. Sven was curled up nearby, pretending to sleep while watching them. Anna finally took note of how low the sun was in the sky.

"I should get back, Elsa probably needs me. I'm kinda hungry too."

Kristoff took a carrot out of his satchel, offered it to her. She waved it away. She knew what happened to carrots with Sven around.

"No? Okay." Kristoff bit the carrot in half, then threw the rest to Sven. The reindeer caught it in mid-air. "Good catch buddy. Keep your energy up, we'll be going back soon."

"I wish I could spend the night with you," Anna said suddenly. "But—oh, hey, not like that! Anyway, Elsa really does need my help. Oh, fine, she has Gerda, but that's—okay, I don't know what that is. But I think she likes when I help her. I know_ I_ like helping her."

"You like helping _everyone_," Kristoff corrected. "Not that that's a bad thing. I mean, more people could be like you, and that'd be amazing. But, oh, you know what I mean."

"I guess," Anna shrugged, standing slowly. "Can we go back now?"

"Sure, sure. Just give Sven a minute or two to stretch and get harnessed up," Kristoff turned to the reindeer. "C'mon buddy, time to do some work. We have a princess to deliver."

Sven leapt to his feet, prancing energetically towards the sled. Kristoff had to admit he'd never seen anyone else that Sven respected that much. Then again, there weren't a lot of people he and Sven knew all that well. Anna was one of something like three people he really, really knew on some level. Ingvar, a fellow ice harvester, was another. The third was a guard, Erik, or maybe Erik-something-or-other, that kept him from the docks on occasion—okay, he honestly only knew that man well enough to be able to dislike him, but it counted.

Dusk found them at the castle, Elsa waiting once more at the gates. She wore a simple blue dress that sparkled in the twilight—obviously another one of her famous ice dresses—and, Anna noticed, her hair was down, loose and flowing over her shoulders. That wasn't like her prim and proper sister. Not like her at all.

"Wow," Kristoff breathed. "Your majesty, you look… amazing."

"Thank you Kristoff," Elsa bowed slightly, as much as her chair allowed. "I trust you kept my sister safe and entertained?"

"Safe, yes. But she did most of the entertaining. Have you _seen_ her games?"

Anna punched him in the arm as Elsa laughed happily. "I have. Some of them. Does she still change the rules every five minutes?"

"Hey!"

"Yeah, she does."

"It makes things more fun."

"Anna, if the rules keep changing, you can't know when you've won."

"They're games, Elsa, you're not supposed to win, you're supposed to be having fun."

"Whatever you say. Come back inside, it's getting a little chilly out here."

"I thought the cold didn't bother you?"

"I'm thinking of you and your boyfriend there."

"Wait, you want me to come in too?"

"Yes, mister Bjorgman, I do. I've had the cooks prepare us an informal dinner. I… well, I'd like to know you better Kristoff. Anna has a head start there of course, and I'd never take that away from her, but if you're going to be around more often, well, I feel I should know you better."

"I, uh…" Kristoff turned to Anna for guidance. "Is this okay with you?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Mind the floor," Elsa warned casually as they entered the castle. The great hall was covered in ice. So were all the hallways leading from it. Massive pillars of ice shot up to support the ceiling, their shadows adding a sense of grandeur to the hall, and a little tingle of foreboding. Two uniquely beautiful ice chandeliers hung from the arched roof. Braziers along the walls spread a soft light, the gaslamps overhead turned off.

"Elsa," Anna whispered, full of awe. "What… why?"

"We have guests. In the castle."

"Guests…?" Anna repeated.

"Well, a guest," Elsa winked at Kristoff, hoping her sister didn't see. She wasn't so lucky.

"All this, for Kristoff?"

"He saved your life, after I nearly killed you a second time. No matter what I do, I can never, _never_ thank him enough."

"But you helped with the sled. You gave him a title, Elsa. He understands how grateful you are."

Elsa shook her head, sadness playing across her face. "No, he doesn't. Because you don't either. Without you, I wouldn't be here."

"I know," Anna knelt down to hug her sister, speaking softly. "I love you, Elsa."

"You don't know. You remember that night?"

"Which night?"

"Just after… well, just before you sang to me, what I told you?"

"Still not really clear."

"I said 'I gave up', after Hans told me you were dead. Without you Anna, without you, life just… well… it wasn't…"

"Don't you dare say it Elsa," Anna admonished her sister. "I know _exactly_ what you're talking about. And as your sister, I absolutely cannot stand to hear you talk like that. You're a survivor, Elsa. You always have been. You think I'm the strong one—I had people around me. Well, servants and staff I could talk to. You… you had to do it all alone. That makes you stronger than me."

"No, it doesn't," Elsa whispered back softly. "Because it broke me."

Anna stepped back, looked at her sister with a critical eye. Aside from a few unshed tears she didn't _look_ very broken. "You're okay _now_, right?"

"I'm trying to be Anna, I really am. I met with the council around lunch time," Elsa sighed. "It made things so much easier. Trade, laws, running the state. It gave me more time, took the pressure off. It made things easier, but all that time… well, it gave me too much time to think. And you know what happens then…"

"You. Stinker," Anna slapped her sister. Just hard enough to leave a mark. Elsa rubbed her cheek. "All this time, and you still—ugh. I'm sorry… I just—"

Still rubbing her cheek, Elsa smiled up at her sister. "Okay, maybe I needed that. But, seriously, it has only been a week. I—we, have a lot to deal with. A lot happened in those thirteen years. I want to make up for it. I want to be a better sister, but I keep seeing—oh, dammit, I see us, okay. Us, back then. I was eight. I was so scared. I'm still scared Anna. I never want to hurt you like that again. I just… I never want to hurt you."

"Then stop shutting me out," Anna's tone softened immediately when she realized what she'd just said. "I mean, I can handle it Elsa. All of it, if you'd just let me."

Sitting at the table, Kristoff spoke, breaking the tension in the room. "Umm, am I helping here, or just waiting for the food?"

The sisters laughed. Elsa spoke first. "I guess you can help later. We're all waiting for the food."

"We're not finished with this talk," Anna promised her sister. "But we can still enjoy dinner, right?"

"Right," Elsa agreed. Kristoff nodded from the far end of the table. He envied the bond the sisters had. It also gave him a great respect for them. It was the kind of bond he and Sven had. The kind he never wanted to break. The kind he never wanted to come between. But if his feelings for Anna were real, and if her feelings were for him, he was afraid—very afraid—that he might be the wedge that finally drove them apart forever.

No, he told himself quietly. If it comes to that… I'll… I'll leave. Anna deserves her happiness more than I do.


	14. The Bathtime Bandit

Kristoff had enjoyed dinner. For Anna and her sister, queen Elsa, it might have been normal. To Kristoff, it was honestly the best meal he had ever had. Also, the largest. He hadn't realized before today what a four course meal was. Perhaps, he considered, he had eaten more than he should have—the sisters seemed to enjoy smaller portions. Well, Elsa seemed to savour her food more that way.

Anna, Kristoff couldn't help but notice, ate with what could only be called gusto. He couldn't remember what the cooks had called that meat, but Anna had eaten a very large piece of it. Then came dessert. Chocolate, of course. As they ate, Kristoff listened to the way they tried to mend the rift between them. It was still a little rough, from what he got. But he was sure they'd get there, in time. If the trolls had taught him nothing else—they had, but a lot of it was actually rather specific to trolls—it was that love could mend almost anything. Kristoff smiled idly and took a chocolate from the pile in the centre of the table.

"What about you?" Kristoff froze, chocolate halfway to his mouth when he realized the question had been directed at him.

"What about me?" he repeated, stalling for time. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"I was wondering if you enjoyed dinner," Elsa repeated.

"I—yes. It was very… umm, large. And filling. I only have room left for this," Kristoff finally bit down on the chocolate he was holding. It was filled with a zesty, gooey orange liqueur. "Wow."

Anna laughed, grabbing another chocolate. "I'm guessing you didn't know about liqueurs before, Kristoff?"

"Well, kind of," Kristoff swallowed the last of the chocolate. "The trolls make some amazing fruit stuff. I just—well, I never thought of putting it inside a chocolate."

"I seem to recall you bringing someone home under the influence of that," Elsa spoke, surreptitiously grabbing another chocolate herself. Smaller portions had the advantage of giving her more room for dessert. At least, that's what she'd always told herself.

"I was only a little tipsy," Anna corrected. Then looked to Kristoff for confirmation. "Wait, you drank the green stuff. Why weren't you drunk?"

"'cause I only had a couple of drinks princess feistypants. I also didn't go around trying a little from every shade of green they put in a cup."

"But… but I…"

"Green's her favourite colour," Elsa stage whispered.

"After she tried the forest spirit I think she turned a little green."

"Hey, you said you wouldn't tell."

"Did I?"

"Well… okay, I didn't want you to tell."

"Wait, wait," Elsa held up her hands, seeking clarification. "She went a little green, or actually turned the colour green?"

"Bit of both," Kristoff said off-handedly. "So did the fores—ow."

A hard chocolate had just bounced from Kristoff's forehead. He stared directly at the culprit. Then he decided another chocolate might fit. Just.

"Anyway, you said you were going to tell her."

"Tell me what?"

"Okay, fine," Anna huffed, throwing her hand in the air. "I drank too much. Or that forest-y stuff was bad—or something all the green things—anyway, I kinda threw up a little bit. But I was fine after, so it had to be the forest-y stuff. Totally that."

"I did notice you taking extra special care on the stairs that night," Elsa winked at her sister. "Speaking of nights, Kristoff, do you have anywhere to stay tonight?"

"I have a place," Kristoff nodded. By place he meant barn. By have he meant 'use until someone finds me'. It was how he slept in town a lot of the time. Some folks didn't even bother throwing him out now.

"Is it far?"

"Not too far," he assured Elsa.

"We have a spare room," Anna cut in. "Lots of spare rooms. You can use one of them if you want. Sven can sleep in the stables. I'm sure the horses won't mind, right Elsa?"

Elsa said nothing.

"Elsa?"

"Oh, no, the horses shouldn't mind. But Kristoff doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want to."

"Aww," Anna's whining sounded adorable to Elsa at that moment.

"I don't know if I should stay," Kristoff faced the sisters. "I mean, it's great, you're great—a bed in a castle… a real bed… but—living rough is kinda my thing. Makes going home better, you know?"

"You're sure, not even one night here?"

"I'm not sure. I love the offer. It's amazing, it's just… if I get too comfortable and I have to leave—for work, or… stuff, then what am I supposed to do?"

"Just one night," Anna insisted. "It's not gonna change you. Sleep with us in the castle. El-sa, behave—oh, I said it like _that_, didn't I?"

Anna couldn't help but notice Kristoff was blushing almost badly as her sister. "Oh come on, it's not that bad."

"I surrender," Kristoff held his hands high. "One night, sleeping with a princess."

He winked. Anna sighed, blushing furiously, placing her head in her hand, resting her elbow on the table. Down the other end of the table she noticed Elsa _not_ going all overprotective big sister against Kristoff. In fact she was giggling. She took a moment to smooth her dress, school her features into those of a regal young woman.

"Nothing happens that Anna doesn't want to happen," Elsa spoke clearly, all levity gone from her voice. Then she turned to her sister. "Nothing happens that Kristoff doesn't want to happen either."

Anna and Kristoff looked at the queen, slightly puzzled. they turned to look at each other. Then back at the queen.

"Whatever happens—or does not happen—I do not want to know. It's your business," Elsa finally winked at the pair. "You're good people. Don't rush this."

Later, in her room, Elsa was undressing—easier with ice-based clothing, as she could use her magic to move it—when there was a knock at the door. She was concentrating, her dress already well over her head, so any reply was muffled. She heard the door creak open. Footsteps, and the dress started moving upward without the help of her magic.

"It's okay to ask for help," Anna looked down at her sister. "Umm, did you want help? I guess I should've asked first."

"Well, I needed a bath. I—" Elsa looked at her sister, the odd twig and leaf still stuck in her braid. The dirt smudged on her nose, cheek, and the back of her hand. "_You_ need a bath. And to wash your hair."

"I know," Anna moaned. "I was gonna have one later. Really. I was."

"Uh huh," Elsa was not convinced. Then an idea occurred to her. It was innocent enough, right? "Why don't we take a bath together? I was going to need help anyway, and you, well would you like help doing your hair?"

Anna stood, uncertain. This was not why she'd come to see Elsa but… well, the worst that could happen would be Elsa freezing the bath, right? "I—okay. You have a spare robe, or should I run and grab one of mine?"

"I've got spares," Elsa assured her, then wheeled herself to the bathroom door. "Gerda, Anna's here, she'll be helping me tonight."

"Very well your majesty. Will you or princess Anna require anything else?"

"Anna?" Elsa called over her shoulder.

"Oh, no, we're fine Gerda, thanks."

Elsa was already in the bathroom, swirling one hand in the hot water. Quite hot, but not uncomfortably so. Her unconscious powers sometimes did things, which meant the bath really did need to be that hot. Just in case. She had already taken off her bra by the time Anna walked in, throwing her dress—the black mourning dress—in a heap on the floor. As she nervously shucked off the rest of her clothing, Anna caught her sister staring at her. There was a look in Elsa's eyes she couldn't quite place. Something between desire, longing, and… fear?

"Elsa?" she asked quietly.

"Anna, I—" Elsa blushed. Well, it was the first time she'd seen her sister naked. As an adult, at least. Bathtime had been shared on occasion with baby Anna.

"What?" Anna asked delicately, blushing a little herself. She'd seen Elsa naked before—well, you kind of had to be to take a bath, but this felt different somehow.

"It's just… I've never seen you like this before," Elsa gestured at her sister's body. "You're beautiful Anna. Quite the young lady."

"And you, you're—uh, more beautiful Elsa. You're a queen. _The_ queen. Is it getting warm in here? Am I rambling?"

"It is a little strange," Elsa admitted. "But you've always been like that—I mean, it's an amazing thing, and you've always liked stranger stuff than me, but…"

"It's okay Elsa," Anna patted her sister on the shoulder, before helping remove her last item of clothing and depositing her in the bath. "I mean, yeah, I am kinda strange, but the good kind. The kind people like, like they think is funny or something. I mean it's no big deal, supposed to be able to laugh at yourself, miss 'no leg to stand on'."

"And they said words were 'armless," Elsa giggled, putting on a terrible accent. Anna laughed too, dispelling the tension in the room as she slipped into the bath.

"Wow, hot hot hot hot," Anna winced as she submerged herself in the water. "Does it really have to be this hot?"

Elsa nodded. "Hotter water makes it harder for my powers to freeze the bath. I learned that a long time ago. Sat there for hours until it unfroze."

"Weren't you—no, nevermind. You don't feel cold."

Elsa smiled, lathering the soap up and down her arms. In short order she was covered in a thin layer of foam that hid absolutely nothing. Anna let out a little laugh. It looked liker her sister was dressed in soap.

"What?" Elsa asked innocently, a smirk tugging the corner of her lips.

"Are you washing up or dressing up?" Anna asked, stealing the soap for herself.

"Speak for yourself," Elsa retorted, seeing her sister drawing a bubbly moustache and beard on her face. A classical, twirly moustache. "So you're the bathtime bandit?"

"Oh no, I've been caught!" Anna flailed her arm around, melodramatically slipping beneath the surface of the bath. Rising a few seconds later, she wiped the soap from her face. "They'll never see through this cunning disguise."

"Never," Elsa agreed. "Considering the bandit now looks like a woman."

"This kind of thing never happened to Flynn Rider," Anna bemoaned, still using the bandit voice.

"Are they real?" Elsa asked, still playing along, reaching out a hand to touch her sister's breast. She froze. So did the water around her ankles. She felt nothing.

"Elsa?" Anna asked tentatively, gently lowering her sister's arm into the water.

"I–I…" Elsa trailed off, helpless. What could she possibly say?

Anna cocked her head sideways, as if looking at Elsa from a different angle might reveal something new. It let her see the ice around her sister's feet. "Are you okay? Wait, cold feet?"

Elsa looked down, laughing. Then she frowned. How had the ice formed there? She knew she couldn't do the magic with her feet, with her legs anymore. She couldn't even feel the ice. The only way she knew it was there was by looking it at. It didn't make any sense. Lost in thought, Anna's next question didn't seem to make sense either.

"Why did you stop?"

"Stop what?"

"You were reaching out to touch me, and you just, well, froze—sorry, bad choice of words."

"No, it's okay Anna. I did–I do want to touch you. It's just… well…"

"What, Elsa?" Anna spoke softly. "I thought we were past secrets—oh, is this about this morning, that thing you couldn't tell me?"

"Yes," Elsa sighed after a long pause, blushing.

"Wait, why are _you_ blushing?"

"Because, well, you're here Anna. And we've been close. I mean really close, for a week now. I love it. I love you. And I hate keeping this from you, so—please don't hate me, or leave me—but we've been so close, and I was thinking and that always leads to things and I wondered what it would be like if you were a man, or just a friend or… or…"

Anna's brow furrowed, staring at her sister in utter consternation. All this, simply because she'd wanted to _touch_ her? Because Elsa wanted to touch her. Touch. Her.

"Elsa, you really…?" Anna wasn't sure how to ask the question, let alone wonder how it might be answered.

"I—ugh, I don't _know!_"Elsa balled her hands into fists. "I like you. And yes, I wanted to touch you, but I can't. It's wrong. We're sisters! But I don't know if I like anyone that way. You're the only person I've been close to in thirteen _years_. And… and… I'm just confused okay Anna. Please, please don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" Anna's voice was full of concern and confusion. "I could never hate you."

"Even after…?"

"I love you Elsa. Really, I do. Well, not touching like _that_, but… I love you."

Elsa wrapped her sister in a hug. A warm hug. A sisterly hug. It was nothing more. Despite their nakedness, the closeness of their bodies. It was just a hug. Slightly damp, admittedly, but they were, after all, in a bath. After they broke apart, Anna asked another, harder question.

"What about men?"

"I don't _know_ any men," Elsa spread her arms and shrugged hopelessly. "I mean, I kinda know Kristoff now, but he's yours."

"And I'd thank you to remember that," Anna said firmly, giving her sister a playful slap. "Maybe you should find a man, get to know him—take longer than a few minutes and a song before you decide to marry him."

Elsa smiled, glad that Anna could poke fun at her experiences. "Well, there might be a man, maybe even two, I could talk with."

"Ooh, ooh, tell me more," Anna pressed up against her sister, trying to be part of the conspiracy.

"Well," Elsa drawled, motioning for Anna to take her hair—and the shampoo. "There's a guard—uh, no, he's a Royal Marine. Erikson, lieutenant. Tall, slim"—Elsa traced a silhouette with her hands and winked—"easy on the eyes."

"And the other one?" Anna pressed, massaging shampoo into Elsa's platinum tresses.

"Søren Skeggisomething. Guildsman. He's huge. Well, really, really tall. Probably taller than Erikson is. He's got red hair like you. Messy like yours too… and that beard," Elsa sighed.

"I never knew you had a thing for beards."

"Neither did I."

"Never knew you liked girls either," Anna said lightly, gently caressing her sister's face.

"I didn't know what I liked," Elsa admitted. "I still don't. I was too busy concealing. Concealing everything. Trying to keep my power in check. Trying not to hurt people. I never really had time to think about love. Not really. I just didn't think it was possible for me."

"Because you thought you were a monster," Anna finished for her sister, rinsing her hair clean. "Hey, keep talking, you can do my hair now."

"You're letting me touch you, after…?"

"What, Elsa?" Anna was exasperated. "We're sisters. I mean, I wasn't expecting it. It might even have been nice—but not now. Now I'm just letting you wash my hair. I might let you touch other things later."

"Wait, are you trying to stop or me tease me?"

"Both," Anna sounded disappointed in herself. "I can't help it Elsa. When you're not worried, when you're in the moment, you're really fun to be around. Well, unless you're surrounded by paperwork of course. But, I mean, one day… maybe. It wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Elsa was running her fingers through Anna's hair, luxuriating in the feel of it, untangling it before she grabbed the shampoo. She whispered, daring to ask. "You mean…?"

"Yes, blargh, that water tastes like soap. Anyway, yes. I mean just once right. Get it out of your system. But then I guess you gotta do the same thing with a man. Figure out what you like better."

Elsa felt like braining her sister with the shampoo at that point. "Did you just—are you giving me advice on how to—Anna!"

Anna just giggled, slipping beneath the water quite deliberately this time. Elsa reached down to lift her back up, almost overbalancing and slipping under herself. Where her hands ended up was not a matter of choice. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Anna slapped her anyway. But it was a playful kind of slap, not really that hard.

"Just can't help yourself," Anna admonished her sister, giggling. "I guess me and the girls will have to sleep with Kristoff tonight, if you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"You have one hand," Elsa retorted. "And it must have a mind of its own then. I remember what happened last time you helped me with the bath."

"Oh, I should have let you fall in?"

"No, but… I didn't know you were that jealous of them."

"Oh please…" Anna started. She couldn't finish because, well, Elsa was right. Anna had envied her sister's bust. For some time. She wanted a chest like that. And, Anna realized, not in the same way Elsa wanted a chest like hers. "Okay, fine. Maybe I am a little jealous. I'm also about to leave, the water's getting cold, and I'm clean enough. Bathrobe?"

"In the cupboard there. On the left, folded next to the—yeah, that's it. Grab a towel—grab two, I'll need one once you get me out of here."

Not another word was spoken as the sisters dried themselves off, with each others help. Nightgowns were next, Anna succumbing to laziness and just borrowing one of Elsa's. They were both lying on Elsa's bed.

"I thought you were going to sleep with Kristoff?"

"Nah," Anna waved a hand in the air. "But I might sleep in my own bed—nothing personal or anything about what happened in there, I just don't wanna hit you in my sleep. Again."

"I think I'll be okay on my own," Elsa patted her sister on the shoulder. "I managed for thirteen years. I'm sure I can do it for one night. Plus, now I know you're just down the hall, and I don't have to lock my door to keep you safe. I feel better when you're close."

"Of course you do," Anna said, tripping over the covers as she made to leave. "I'm lucky."

"You know, the duvet is supposed to be on top of you, not the other way round," Elsa laughed at her sister.

"Yeah, lets fix that," Anna said playfully, pulling the covers up over Elsa and tucking her in so tight she could barely move. "That seem right?"

A muffled voice came from under the blankets. "Very funny."

An arm peeked from under the blankets, pointing at the door. The voice following it was muffled but playful. "Go to your room."

Anna laughed, half skipping for the door, closing it quietly behind her. It didn't occur to her that she'd just shut the door to her sister's room. That she'd been the one to close the door this time. It also didn't occur to the young princess that she'd done so with absolutely no fear of the door not opening again.

* * *

**AN:** So I have a confession to make. This may be a little bit of Elsanna. Why? Because Anna is the only person Elsa has been close to in a decade. And, inspired by a single quote on tvtropes, I thought maybe this is only because Elsa herself doesn't really know what she wants. She knows what's 'right' and 'wrong' by the social standards of the day, but that doesn't stop her from _wanting_ some of these things.


	15. Steam & Shadows

"Hi Elsa!" Elsa's morning of paperwork—thankfully much less than before with the council handling matters now—was interrupted by something small, white, and annoyingly happy. And it was still talking. "No one needs to use the southwest corridor to the banquet hall. It was like that when I got there. The table only had three legs anyway. Not enough legs."

Olaf's eyes were darting from side to side. "And whatever happens, there's no need to look behind the third curtain on the left. No need at all."

Elsa frowned at the snowman, knowing full well she'd need to inspect the corridor later. There was something else that looked wrong though. "Olaf, where's your nose?"

Stick hands patted at his face, and finding a vital appendage missing, Olaf screamed. Running from the room, he spoke quickly. "Gotta find it. It's not in the southwest corridor. You won't find me there. Or my nose. Wauh! What if someone ate it?!"

Olaf's head rolled the wrong way past the still open door to the study. A second later the rest of the snowman plowed into the doorjamb.

"Left, no, no, _my_ left, not your left!"

"Oh, hi Olaf, lemme help you there," red braids swung past the door as Anna placed Olaf's head back on his misguided body. "Hey, what happened to your nose?"

Another scream, and Olaf sprinted down the hall. Anna looked in on her sister.

"We need to avoid the southwest corridor to the banquet hall," Elsa said. "Which means Olaf has caused a minor disaster down there."

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad," Anna's reply was immediately countered by the sound of screaming and running footsteps. And hooves. A white blur passed the door. Then a blur in a grey suit. Then a light brown blur with antlers—wait, what? Anna looked back into the hall. Olaf ran screaming through the door.

"Hide me. You gotta hide me. Sven wants to _eat_ my _nose!_" At this latest outburst, Sven poked his head through the door to the study, looking left and right like a dog searching for a bone. Olaf was currently hiding next to Elsa, tugging at her dress. "Also, the southeast corridor is totally Sven's fault."

Elsa's exasperated scream cut everything else off. Six inches of her desk iced over, as did some of the floor. It wasn't nearly as much ice as she was afraid she might create. It also meant she really was getting stressed out by the crazy this morning. Had everyone just decided to go mad after breakfast?

"Oh, Elsa," Anna danced clumsily away from Sven's antlers. "I just came to tell you that me and Kristoff are going out for a little while. You'll be okay, right?"

"If I haven't gone mad by the time you get back, I'll let you know," Elsa said, only half-joking. How on earth was she going to sort out _this_ mess. She didn't just mean the spectre of paperwork either—some dark and demanding paperwork at that. What she really needed was some time outside the castle. Clear her head. Let Kai deal with the mess in the halls, it _was_ his job, and he had complained recently about how clean Elsa was keeping everything. Elsa had a feeling he'd regret that complaint today, although that wasn't really fair to the man.

"Okay," Anna said brightly, waving as she left the room. "Me and Kristoff will be back after lunch, okay?"

"Go, have your fun," Elsa waved her sister off. "Get out of here before the crazy gets you too."

Anna left without another word. Sven backed into the hall, and was then hauled away by Kristoff, and Elsa heard the ice harvester saying something about bolting and antlers breaking and having enough carrots without stealing noses. Was this how it started?

A loud crash echoed through the halls, and a dented helmet rolled past the still open door.

Elsa cradled her head in her hands, leaning on the desk. "I need a drink."

That was definitely how it started.

The morning wore on, and Anna finally found out where Kristoff was taking her. She'd been there before, in fact. On that night. Of course, it had been snowing then, but the little shop still looked just as inviting.

"Hoo Hoo, big summer blowout!" even the voice coming from behind the counter was the same. It was like deja vu, except everything was warm this time. "We have half off clogs, trunks and a sun—you called me crook."

Kristoff held out his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry Oaken. Really sorry. I was just—okay, I _was_ rude."

Oaken hadn't stopped. He didn't stop until Anna stood between him and Kristoff. "Hey, I'm the princess, and that's my friend, so you gotta be nice."

"He called me a crook," Oaken leaned down so he could look the red haired princess in the eye. She didn't back down.

"So he was a little stressed about his job being all in jeopardy and stuff. I mean, if someone anchored a huge trade ship next to your shop, you'd be a little stressed too, right?"

"No. Wandering Oaken's only has finest wares in town. And best Lutefisk in all Arendelle," Oaken held out a quart of the vile smelling 'food'.

"I'll pass," Anna said, gently lowering the lutefisk back to the counter. "And Kristoff is sorry he called you a crook."

"I—yes. I'm very sorry I called you a crook Oaken," Kristoff coughed. "But really, forty for all that, it's—"

Kristoff rubbed the back of his head where Anna had slapped him. She whistled nonchalantly as if nothing had happened.

"Oaken, do you still have the dress I left here?"

"Of course. Cannot sell wares so damaged. I was waiting for seamstress to fix befor—for you."

"Yeah, because you wouldn't dare se—ow! Stop that."

"Well, you're really not helping yourself if you keep talking here. Oaken already threw you out once, I don't want you getting thrown out before you show me why we're here."

"Umm," Kristoff placed some coins on the counter. Oaken hurried back behind the wooden barrier.

"You are here to buy, yes?"

"Sort of—umm, sauna?"

"Oh, ya," Oaken rapped against the door. "Hoo hoo, visitors."

Three men filed out, wrapped in towels and covered in sweat. Each of them grabbed another towel from a rack on the wall, then headed for the cooling room.

"You want clean towels, ya?" Oaken reached under the counter to hand both Anna and Kristoff a bundle of white towels. "Clothes here. I find princess' dress while you relax."

Undressing behind a screen, Anna wrapped herself in one of the towels. It had been some time since she'd been to a real sauna. She didn't know if this counted though. It was nice, but it was on the back of a shop. She was going to get her dress back though. Elsa would like that, it would show her Anna could remember to be responsible—okay, she could remember it sometimes. Placing her clothes in the rack, trying to keep her towel up just using her elbow, Anna walked into the sauna, making sure to close the door quickly.

It was hot. And steamy. The air was a little misty, but that was fine. She ladled more water onto the stones and was rewarded with a sizzling noise. She felt her hair, the steam was already making it go frizzy. She sighed, well, it didn't matter. It just felt so nice. Anna spread a towel out on the middle bench, and was almost surprised to hear the door open until she remembered Kristoff was with her.

He was only wearing a towel. Somehow, he made that towel look very good. What it wasn't covering was even better. He wasn't even bothering to show off, she knew. He didn't have to. A lifetime harvesting ice would make a man. And Kristoff was a very well made man. Aside from the nose, and the really scruffy hair, Anna wondered if this was the type of person all those sculptures were based on.

Kristoff spread another towel across the top bench, climbing past Anna to lie on it. He was quite pointedly _not_ looking at her. Anna looked down. Her towel had slipped. She'd tried cinching it, but it was hard to do with one hand. Blushing a little, she turned away and tried again. On the third attempt the towel held its place as she took a step forward, then backwards. Satisfied, Anna exhaled and lay on the towel she had placed earlier.

All Anna could hear now was the sound of her and Kristoff's breathing. The occasional sizzle came from the stones. None of that really mattered. She was here to relax. More than usual. Well, the idea was to stop moving, and that was kind of hard for her. She liked moving, blitzing her way through everything. She was learning the virtues of patience. Elsa was making sure of that. Anna recalled the bath from the previous night. It had been fun, at first. Then Elsa made it awkward. Tried to downplay everything. Anna could recall having suggested something—and now she realized she might actually have been serious.

Which was weird, because serious and Anna didn't normally belong in the same sentence. Unless someone was telling her to be serious. But she was with Kristoff. She even planned to do things with him. Unmentionable things. Okay, things Elsa didn't want mentioned while she was listening. Anna didn't really get what the big deal was. People did it all the time—it was supposed to be _fun_ after all. Anyone who had a baby had to have done it at least once. Maybe Elsa's just a prude, Anna decided after her deliberations. Or really shy.

Putting those thoughts aside, Anna slowly stretched, then stood, luxuriating in the warmth of the sauna. It wasn't quite hot enough though. The red haired princess ladled more water on to the stones. The hiss of escaping steam was like a seductive whisper. Anna felt warm all over. She looked up at Kristoff, lying on the top bench. He was staring, only his head turned to look at her. He looked away quickly. Again? was her only thought.

Her towel had wound up on the floor. Again. She bent low to retrieve it. Then she wondered why she was hiding. Kristoff was her boyfriend—well, that's what others had been telling her recently. He had saved her life—in a way, Elsa had explained during that dinner. He had… Anna wondered then. Had he actually earned the right to look upon her? A short tally of evidence suggested he had. He was still pointedly not looking at her naked body. Anna lay on the bench once more, draping the other towel with an artless grace that left certain pieces of her anatomy a little more exposed.

"So," Anna said finally. "What's it like being an ice harvester?"

"It's…" Kristoff stared at the ceiling, shaking his hands while trying to find the right words. "Rewarding, I guess is the right word. I feel like I'm doing something useful, something good. Don't have to think too much—just keep yourself safe, and keep working. Then you take your ice, take your sled, and head into town. Whichever town you like really. There's less of us these days than there are towns. But we make do. And we've got apprentices to train—okay, I don't have an apprentice, but a few of the other harvesters do."

"You also take care of reindeer," Anna pointed out, noticing that Kristoff was _still_ not looking at her.

"That's… well that's different. That's a Kristoff thing, not an ice harvester thing. My family—what I think I can remember of it before the trolls took us in, had papa as an ice harvester, and my mother was a herder. Reindeer. I was very young. I don't really know what happened, not for sure. The ice harvesters let me follow them for a while, Sven too. Then the trolls found us… or we found them and—" Kristoff remembered something, a very old memory, of ice and snow and trolls and love.

"And that was the first time I saw you Anna. I mean, I didn't know it was you, of course. But I could see the king, and the queen. A little girl with red hair in his arms—and you looked dead," Kristoff exhaled heavily. "Elsa was there, and Grand Pabbie made the shapes and she got scared. Then he said something 'memories'. And—wait, did you even know about this?"

"About the trolls?" Anna half-asked, half answered. "Yeah, I did. Sort of. Elsa explained what really happened a few nights ago when she made it snow in the ballroom. Did you know she hadn't done that since the night I got hurt?"

"I didn't," Kristoff admitted. "I mean, until a week ago I didn't even know _you_."

"And aren't you glad you met me?"

"Well, you dump a bag of tools on top of me, mess up my face with a bag of carrots, insist on some hare-brained scheme to stop an eternal winter by talking to your sister—great plan that was—then you destroy my sled, get me thrown out of the most awesome ice palace I have ever seen, and that's not even the best part. No, that has to be getting thrown off a cliff in the company of two crazy snow monsters."

"Hey!"

"You threw that snowball, princess feistypants," Kristoff rose enough to look Anna in the face—and to see the rest of her as she pouted. Any further argument died on his lips as he lay down again, stealing another glance. "Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little upset by all that. But you know what? I forgive you. I mean, I really should have when you gave me the new sled, but I was talking too much and you kissed me and then I really couldn't think about stuff like that because it was really nice and I like kissing you and I hope I didn't just insult you and—ugh, I just don't know how to be proper!"

"Then don't," Anna whispered in his ear, dropping the towel.

The door opened to loud talking. Men talking loudly. "And I said to Svengar, I said—your highness?"

The first man turned bright red, immediately averting his eyes. Anna shrieked and dived for the towels. The resultant crash was loud enough to be heard throughout the mountains, she was quite sure. But at least her modesty had been preserved, if not her dignity. Or her hips. That landing had hurt. That was also when she noticed the pain in her right arm, under the bandages. Bandages that were slowly turning red.

"Doctor?" Anna asked, awkwardly raising herself to a sitting position, all thoughts of modesty or dignity gone. The men shook their heads. Kristoff knelt beside her, inspecting the bandages.

"Is it bad?"

"I don't know. Can you tell?"

"I'd have to undo the bandages. It might make things worse. Arendelle's not far. It didn't take us too long to get here this morning, and Sven wasn't in any kind of rush."

"Dress," Anna spoke with a slight slur. She rubbed the side of her head. Had she hit that too? "Green one, old one Kristoff. Already dirty. Blood is hard to wash out."

Kristoff left the room, making sure the other men kept a respectful watch on the princess. He was back moments later with the torn and dirtied coronation dress. Wrapping a towel around Anna, he helped her to the screen, giving her privacy while she got dressed.

Meanwhile, in town, Elsa's morning had unfolded quite differently. She was currently rolling down the cobbled street, keeping to one side so a carriage could pass. She noticed an exceptionally tall man walking her way, with a scraggly mop of red hair, and a magnificent beard.

"Søren!" she called, waving the man over.

"Your majesty," he gave a curt bow as he approached. "Is there a problem?"

"I needed a drink."

"But doesn't the castle have—"

"I needed to get out of the castle. Things got a little out of control."

"You didn't…?" Søren dared to ask.

"It was close," Elsa admitted, brushing aside the fact that Søren thought _she_ went out of control. "Something happened in the southwest corridors. Kai can handle it, but I really should have checked before I left. It's done now, no turning back. Do you know where I can get a drink. And lunch?"

"I know a place," Søren answered after a brief pause. "It might be rather crude for your tastes, your majesty."

"I think I can handle a little crude humour from my subjects. And if I can't, well, they'll thaw out eventually."

"What I know about some of them, I might pay to see that show," Søren laughed. "This way, queen Elsa. For the best terrible food and drink you've never had."

The place was a proper drinking hall. Long, low tables. Unfinished wooden beams overhead supporting the roof. Rough hewn stone for walls. Great fire pits around the centre. Small doors, and a large serving window that opened into the back room—the kitchen. Søren escorted her to a smaller table, surreptitiously kicking away a sitting bench so her chair could fit at the table. What she did notice was the decor, very 'viking raider' with crossed swords and wooden shields hanging along the walls.

A short, stout woman with blonde hair in a braid and wearing ancient looking armour approached the table. When she recognized the face of the woman in the wheelchair she dipped into a curtsey, then spoke.

"Your majesty, welcome to Hus av Strykejern. It is a great honour to have you dine here."

"Yes, umm, what do you have to drink?"

"Only the finest beers, ales, lagers and mead. We also have a little Akvavit or Brandewijn if you would prefer."

"Stout draught," Søren ordered from across the table.

"Fine Lager?" Elsa ventured.

"Stout Draught, Vienna Lager," the serving girl turned from the table, heading for the kitchen.

Elsa rested her hands on the table, her right hand clutching her left, catching snippets of conversation from around the room. She cringed a little at some of the jokes—Søren was right, it was crude. Very crude. Most of these men—and the few women—seemed to be tradesmen, workers, smiths. People who belonged to the guilds. Of course, it made sense that Søren would regularly visit the drinking hall where most of his fellow guildsmen spent their time away from work. The serving girl returned a few moments later with their drinks.

Søren took a great gulp of his drink, wiping foam from his beard with the back of his hand. Elsa took an experimental sip of hers. It was a red-gold colour. There was a bitterness to the drink that made her wince. It was slight, but it marred the odd sweetness swirling across her tongue. There was a final taste of something… smoky? no… toasted. It wasn't that bad as a drink, really. Aside from the bitterness, it was actually quite pleasant. Elsa smiled, enjoying another taste of the lager. She was still hungry.

"How do I get food?" Elsa asked Søren.

"You just call a serving girl," the guildsman explained, taking another draught and pointing at Elsa. "Frida, order here."

The same woman that served them before walked over. "What would you like, your majesty?"

"Something with fish, and… vegetables?"

"We have a salmon, cooked over an open fire, seasoned with rosemary, thyme, and oriental spices. It can be served with vegetable soup, or a selection of summer vegetables."

"Summer vegetables," Elsa made her choice.

"Would you like another drink while we prepare your meal?"

"I think I'm fine with this one," Elsa nodded at the lager in front of her. She'd barely drunk any of it. The serving girl—Frida, Elsa reminded herself—turned away and headed for the kitchens. Søren stretched, cracking his joints as he moved. Elsa asked why he wasn't ordering anything.

"Not that hungry, your majesty. I'd rather talk than eat right now."

"You would?" Elsa furrowed her brow, taking in Søren's expression of interest. "About what?"

"Anything. The people of Arendelle know very little about you queen Elsa. You're something of a mystery. I don't plan on solving that myself, but I would like to know the fine young woman ruling my country a little better. So too, I assume, would everyone else in this town."

"That's fair," Elsa smiled. "I haven't let my people see me much. I keep to myself, running the kingdom, keeping Anna out of trouble, dealing with my injuries. Did you know this is the first time I've had a real meal outside the castle in over a decade?"

"That I didn't know. Those of us on the council noticed how much you kept to yourself. We wanted to offer help, but it was not our place to do so unless you asked first. I, for one, am glad that you did."

"So am I," Elsa sighed. "It's given me more time to myself. Honestly, that's how I spend most of my time when I'm not signing paperwork or bonding with Anna. I practice my magic sometimes too—I'm getting a lot better at controlling it."

"There is a kind of beauty in the untamed nature of your magic, queen Elsa. I saw the courtyard the day after you—the day after the coronation ball. The shapes in the ice were savage, but there was beauty there. It is hard to describe—have you ever seen a lynx hunting in the twilight?"

"No, never."

"A shame, queen Elsa. I saw one once as a young boy, on a hunting trip with my father. The lynx was stalking a deer just before sunset. The way it attacked was savage, ruthless. But the way it moved, the way the lynx hunted, there was a grace there I have not seen again. Words… do not do the sight justice. I wonder, queen Elsa, what great works have you witnessed?"

"If I had seen any, I would tell you," Elsa promised. "But the only great works I saw were those that leapt off the pages of my books and into my heart. I had a… sheltered childhood."

"Call it what you will," Søren replied evenly. "But your parents' decision to hide you from the world for so long is not lost on me."

Frost coated the table around Elsa's hands, spreading slowly towards the guildsman. Her words were laced with ice. "That was _my_ choice. I will not have you slight the memory of my parents by implying what happened was their fault!"

Elsa took a calming breath, trying to ignore the people staring at her, trying to ignore the tiny icicles growing across the table. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she lowered her eyes. "It was mine."

Søren had no reply for that. He had just insulted the queen. Called into question the judgement of her parents. Forced her to reveal a painful truth. And he had done so in the presence of dozens of witnesses. How could I be so _stupid?_ he asked of himself. He watched as the queen rolled back from the table, wheeling herself to the door. Frida was just approaching with the salmon.

"What about your lunch?" Søren called after her, hopelessly lost.

"I'm not hungry," Elsa lied. She had to lie. She couldn't stay here. Not after losing control like that in front of so many people. The madness she had fled from this morning seemed almost comfortable, in light of this new disaster. But she couldn't go home. Not yet. She was supposed to be—Elsa stopped and mentally questioned herself. There wasn't anything she was _supposed_ to be doing. Only the paperwork left in the castle. Right now, without Anna, that didn't feel like home. Just another hall of stone.

But there was somewhere else she could go. Somewhere high in the mountains. Hidden. Beautiful. She could escape from—Elsa stopped suddenly, the side of her chair rebounding from a fountain. Snow was falling around her, piling up in drifts as an undeniable truth found her. She could never go back there. Not alone. Without her legs she could never scale that mountain again. Without help she would never see her creation again.

She looked up when she heard a commotion towards the gates of the castle. A reindeer galloped past. It was pulling a familiar blue sled. In it sat a young woman with frizzy but familiar looking red hair. But there was more red. Elsa blinked, watching the sled as it shot through the gates. The stump of Anna's right arm, which had been covered in white bandages, was now dark red.

Elsa wrenched her chair around, speeding towards the castle as fast as she could move. Blood. Anna was hurt. The only thing that mattered was Anna, getting to Anna. Seeing Anna again. A trail of frost followed the wheelchair, but Elsa never noticed. Her only thoughts were for Anna.

* * *

**AN:** More fluff, more drama, more angst! Always more of everything. Mostly it's just more words, strung together in interesting and sometimes comprehensible fashion.

And to everyone who has read this work, has followed this story, favourited this story, or taken the time to leave a review, you have my sincerest thanks. I try to respond to every review personally, but sometimes I just can't think of what to say (and of course I can't say anything about guest reviews).


	16. The Big Game

Tearing through the castle, Elsa headed straight for the physician's study. If Anna was hurt, that was where she would go. Where she would tell Kristoff to take her. Pausing outside the door, Elsa heard three voices, talking conversationally. Two male, one female. She recognized all of them. Kristoff. Anna. The physician—and Elsa was ashamed to admit that all this time, she had never bothered to learn the physician's name. It was a mistake she would correct as soon as she was sure Anna was safe. She knocked on the door.

"Who knocks?"

"The queen."

"Come in. Your sister will be fine," Elsa wheeled herself into the room as the physician spoke. "It is only some torn stitches, no major damage. It was wise to return quickly, if more had come loose you could have lost a lot of blood—a dangerous amount. Master Bjorgman, you were correct in deciding to leave the bandage in place. It is a pressure bandage, wound tightly so as to staunch the flow of blood in case something like this happened."

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief, smiling up at Anna.

"What?" the red haired princess asked. "I fell."

"I just… I saw blood—it scared me."

"It's not that bad. Really, Elsa, it isn't. I got worse scrapes crashing into things with my bike."

Elsa looked at her sister dubiously. The physician was undoing the bandage, grabbing a needle and thread.

"Okay, but, this is no big deal. I fell and—Kristoff, did you get my dress?"

It was only then Elsa noticed what her sister was wearing. The torn and damaged dress she'd worn to the coronation ball. She hadn't been wearing it in the morning, so Elsa was confused as to why Anna was wearing it now—and why she'd asked Kristoff about a dress.

"Wait, why would _Kristoff_ have your dress?"

"Because we were in a sauna and—well, I kinda might have forgotten it was a little more public than we wanted. I mean, they were supposed to be finished and—"

"Don't tell me," Elsa made a slashing motion with her right hand. "_Please_ don't tell me."

"Well, that happened," Anna stuck out her tongue, ignoring her sister's pleas. She winced as the physician carefully drove the needle through the flesh of her arm. "Then I had to dive for the towels. I mean, it was okay for Kristoff to look, but everyone?"

"Anna, I just said 'don't tell me'!"

"I just didn't want you thinking anyone hurt me Elsa. Especially not Kristoff. I fell—okay, dived—for the towels. That's how this happened. It was nobody's fault."

"Hey," Elsa changed tack, accepting Anna's explanation, remembering she'd left lunch behind in the drinking hall. "Are you hungry. Have you had lunch?"

"No. We didn't have time for lunch," Anna sounded disappointed. "Kristoff took me straight here. Wait, have you had lunch?"

The physician inspected his work, running his fingers over Anna's truncated right arm. He ignored the conversation, making sure everything was in order. It would not do to have the princess walk out in anything less than the best condition.

"No I–I ran away."

"Were they serving lutefisk?" Anna winked. Most of Arendelle did occasionally enjoy a meal of lutefisk. The sisters were not most people.

"No, salmon. I just…" Elsa took a deep breath, composing herself, ready to admit her mistakes to Anna. "I lost control. Again. Søren, he—"

"The guy with the nice beard?" Anna interrupted, shifting slightly as the physician wrapped her stump in bandages once more.

"Yes, him. So, we were talking, and it moved to the fact I was hidden behind that door for so long. He said it was Papa's decision. I said it wasn't—and froze half the table. I said it was my fault—but that was a lie. I know Papa made that choice. I know he made it because of me. But does that make it my fault, or his?"

"Well," Anna began slowly. "I guess you can at least ask that now. That's real progress. I know a week ago you would have blamed yourself and your powers for everything. But there's a problem Elsa: I don't know whose fault that is. Or if it's anyone's fault, really. I mean, maybe it was Papa, maybe it was you, maybe it was the magic, maybe the trolls' advice was bad?"

Anna shrugged hopelessly. "I just don't know, Elsa. I just don't know."

"That's okay," Elsa smiled, wrapping an arm around her sister's waist. "I don't know either. I just–I just wanted someone else to tell me that. That it was okay to not know that."

Kristoff coughed quietly. "Did someone say something about lunch?"

"Is Anna okay now?" Elsa asked the physician.

"She will be fine, your majesty. No lasting damage. Although I would recommend pursuing less strenuous activities for the next few days," he turned to Anna. "And I would recommend you avoid falling on your arm again, unless you want to grace me with another visit."

Anna nodded with what she thought was a sagely expression. She had the grace to look chagrined when the physician admonished her about falling.

Elsa turned to the physician. "It shames me to say this, but I have known you many years, and I have not once bothered to ask your name. I always thought of you as 'the physician'."

"My name is not important, your majesty. Only my skills as a physician. Seeing as you have asked now, I cannot refuse to answer. My name is Ulrik Arnesen."

"_The_ Ulrik Arnesen?" Elsa asked, needing to be sure.

"The very same."

Elsa's jaw dropped. Everyone had heard the stories, the rumours. He had always been a great doctor, but he had reached too far once. A proponent of radical new methods, doctor Arnesen had revolutionized medicine in the small town of Arendelle. Then one of his patients had grown very ill. A mysterious sickness that he was helpless to cure. A sickness no one had seen before—and so new, rumours claimed, that it had been created by doctor Arnesen, as an unholy experiment. But his skill was great, so people managed to ignore this.

Until it happened again. The same radical treatment. The same doctor. The people saw a pattern emerging. A mob demanded the doctor's life in payment. He vanished the same night, never to be seen again.

"Your father sheltered me," Ulrik explained. "He took me in, valuing my skills. You were just a baby, not more than two years old, your majesty. Your magic had just manifested. Your father was looking for reasons why. He wanted to understand. I tried helping him, he acquired so many books—you have seen the library of course. Invaluable works. It was your father's kindness that saved me.

"It let me discover why those patients died. I learned that it _was_ my fault. The treatment, when used on people with certain histories—it was an allergic reaction to the reagents in the medicine. I left an anonymous note for the other doctors. They couldn't know I was still here. They had to know what was making people sick. Knowledge is power, queen Elsa. To doctors and physicians, knowledge is power over death itself. If we can heal the sick, help the wounded, give them just one day more, then that is enough.

"But it is never enough. Just one day more may be my statement, but we want our patients to live fully for much, much longer than just one day more. That is why we are always searching for new knowledge. Seeking new cures. The path to knowledge is fraught with danger, and sometimes—sometimes others pay the price so that we can learn what we need to. I know that better than most. It is my greatest shame."

When Ulrik looked up, he saw the queen smiling at him. A warm smile. A forgiving smile. "We all have things in our past we would rather forget, doctor Arnesen. We let them shape us, define us. Change us into who we are today. But I would not dare judge you on your mistakes. Just as I would not wish to be judged against mine. No, all that matters to me is that you keep Anna safe, and healthy. Keep the whole royal family healthy. That is all you need do, and you will have my gratitude."

Elsa turned to Kristoff and Anna. "Now, you were asking about lunch?"

Both smiled. Anna spoke. "Could we eat in the courtyard. Have a picnic?"

"Sure," Elsa smiled. "The cooks can eat with us too. We really should learn more about the people that live here."

"Well, you should," Anna winked at her sister. "I learned about them long ago. Like Remi's love of pasta, or Brigitta's fondness for lemon zest. Oh, oh, and the special cakes Kjellson makes for his daughters. What?"

"I get it," Elsa laughed. "I mean, my door wasn't very talkative at the best of times. Hey, Ulrik, would you like to join us for lunch?"

"My apologies, but no, queen Elsa. I must continue my studies."

"But…"

"People still remember. I cannot show my face in public. I am as much a prisoner of circumstance as you were. I made my peace with it a long time ago. The other members of the staff were sworn to secrecy by your father. Except for Kai—his mother was one of my patients. We have since reached an… understanding."

Elsa started, raising her hand, intending to say something about not shutting doors. Then she realized the advice applied more to her than to Ulrik. With a sigh she lowered her hand, and turned to leave with the others.

In the kitchens, Elsa took great pains to try and learn the name of everyone there. Anna laughed quietly at the chaos her sister was unwittingly causing. Kristoff stood aloof, staying well away from everyone except Anna. Elsa despaired of remembering all the names and faces. It was hard enough with the council, with half the people who had walked through her office demanding an audience, demanding redress for damages inflicted. She would find a way. Elsa promised herself that. She would find a way to remember which name went with which face.

There were more pressing concerns, after learning a handful of names. Concerns such as finding sandwiches. Fruit. Something to drink. Concerns such as getting all these items safely into the courtyard. It turned out to be all too easy, resting a serving tray across her lap and gently wheeling her chair into the courtyard proper, stopping next to one of the fountains.

Anna and Kristoff made it over moments later, somewhat clumsy due to the ice underfoot. Elsa laughed making a swift gesture with her free hand, forming a pair of picnic chairs from the ice.

"Wow, this thing is freezing," Anna complained playfully. Beside her, Kristoff said nothing.

"What, you expected the ice to be warm?" Elsa smiled at her sister. "I'm afraid the only warm thing I can give you is hugs."

"Yeah, that'll make up for it," Anna replied around half a sandwich.

"Manners."

Anna swallowed, then continued talking. "Oh, come on. It's not like Kristoff didn't see us doing the same thing at dinner."

"He saw _you_ talking with your mouth full of food. I was the very picture of regal poise."

"Sneaking chocolates every ten seconds."

"I had to, you were practically inhaling them."

"You were trying to get all the good ones!"

"At least I wasn't throwing them!"

"Hey. No fair!"

"Ladies?" Kristoff asked fearfully.

"What?" the sisters rounded on him before either realized what they'd been doing.

"Wait, were we just fighting—" Elsa began.

"—over chocolate?" Anna finished for her.

Both sisters giggled, then took a moment to compose themselves. Elsa looked around the courtyard expectantly. A crazy idea had just taken up residence in her head. An idea worthy of Anna's best schemes. She smiled, surreptitiously working her magic as she drank her tea. Kristoff turned, noticing what was happening behind them. He tapped Anna on the shoulder, and the red haired princess turned around with a gasp of surprise.

"Elsa—I… wow. Really?"

"I know you liked playing as a little girl. I remember how proud you were the first time you managed to beat Papa. I thought maybe—well, I thought it might be fun to have a game. Unless you had other plans for the afternoon?"

"Well, the sauna at Oaken's was really, really nice," Anna winked at Kristoff, making Elsa blush. "But this… Elsa, I'd love to play against you. Just one thing…"

"What?"

"Kristoff gets to be my king."

"Hey, I didn't agree to this."

"Well then, I'll be queen," Elsa laughed, using her magic to change the giant ice sculpture into a throne, depositing herself on top of it.

"Get down from there," Anna imitated their mother's voice. "You'll break your leg if you fall!"

"How would I know?" Elsa shot back.

"Oops, sorry Elsa," Anna winced. "Wait, who's white, who's black?"

"You can't tell?" Elsa spread her hands wide, the pieces around her frosting over, taking on a darker hue. "Hmm… I need a king."

Something small, snowy, and all too happy walked through the courtyard.

"Olaf!"

"Hi Elsa. Hi Anna. Hi Kristoff. Hi giant ice sculptures," the snowman whispered a question with trepidation. "They're not like marshmallow are they?"

"No Olaf, they're just ice," Elsa assured him. "Can you stand there. You'll be my king."

"Oooh, a king. Do I get to make royal decrees? Everyone gets warm hugs. And free snowballs. And… and… a giant umbrella and a trip to the beach and—"

"I've created a monster," Elsa buried her head in her hands. "We're playing chess Olaf. You're the king for black."

"But, I'm white. White as snow."

"All of Anna's pieces are clear, like glass. It's not really black, Olaf. It just means we're on the other side."

"You're fighting Anna?"

"No, Olaf. It's just a game. A competition, like a race."

"Oh, I get it. I think. The first one to cross the board wins. But how do we get past all that?"

"We have to capture Anna's king—Kristoff."

"Right, right. So, what do I do?"

"Just, stay there. For now. You're my king. I can't let you get captured. Not by the evil princess over there," Elsa winked at her sister.

"Hey, the evil princess would like a fancy throne."

"You want to be a queen too?"

"Duh," Anna smiled at her sister. "And what does Kristoff get?"

Elsa wove her hands through the air, manipulating her magic. The ice of the white queen became a ladder, a short ladder to a grand seat, backed with a rayed sun. Elsa's throne was backed by a giant snowflake. The white king vanished, the ice flowing into much smaller shape. Two shapes. A sword, and a crown.

Picking up the items, Kristoff complained. "I still haven't agreed to this."

"Don't worry," Anna reassured him. "I'm a great chess player. Right, on with the game!"

"Pawn to E4!" Anna pointed to one of her pawns, giggling with delight when Elsa made it move.

"Pawn to E5," Elsa replied, moving her own piece.

"Bishop to B5."

"Knight to F6."

The opening moves were a blur to Kristoff, standing behind a small tower of ice—a pawn—as tall as he was. Then it happened. Anna moved her other bishop.

"Knight to E4!" Elsa called with glee, watching as the stylized frosted ice horse smashed the clear ice pawn to smithereens. She smiled at Anna's look of consternation. Anna had just realized what her sister was attempting. And she had no way to stop it. Yet.

"Queen to D2!" It was after her towering throne stopped sliding across the ice that Anna realized how well Elsa had trapped her. That knight could now take _her_. The queen, her most valuable piece. But it didn't. Elsa's next move seemed far more conservative.

"Bishop to G4."

"Pawn to H3."

"Pawn to A5."

Anna wondered what Elsa was playing at, leaving her bishop undefended like that. "Pawn to G4!"

The small tower of ice serving as a pawn sent a spike straight through the heart of the bishop, shattering it. Large chunks of ice littered the courtyard.

"Knight to A6."

"Bishop to A6," Anna was still wondering what her sister was trying to do. Losing pieces this early was not normally considered a winning strategy.

"Rook to A6."

Oh. That was it. Elsa was drawing her forward, tempting her to attack pieces out of position, inviting easy counter attacks. But why wasn't the knight in the centre moving against her or the bishop?

"Rook to H5," Anna started setting a trap of her own.

"Hey, don't I get to do anything?" Kristoff moaned, idly twirling the sword.

"Sure," Elsa replied brightly. "Knight to D2."

The charge of the frosted horse shook the pillar of ice, sending cracks spidering up the back of the throne. Anna shrieked, half out of fear, half out of sheer delight at playing something so dangerous. The knight backed off, then charged again, slamming through the white queen in a shower of crystal shards. Anna felt herself falling. The courtyard wasn't as hard as it should have been. Oh. Snow. Elsa had made her a cushion of snow to fall safely on. The frosted knight was even gracious enough to give her time to leave that square.

"Avenge me, my valiant and pungent reindeer king!" Anna shouted to her boyfriend from the edge of the board.

Kristoff leapt at the knight, his sword hacking through it in one blow. One piece fell to the left, the other fell to the right.

Anna directed the rest of the game from the sidelines, trying to control her impulsive nature. She was still losing more pieces than Elsa, but it was moving into the endgame. She had just managed to promote a pawn, jumping on the board where Elsa's white bishop had started. "Queen me!"

Anna felt the ice forming beneath her, bouying her up. The sunburst behind her had a crack through the centre. A snowball smashed against the armrest of her throne.

"Hey!"

Elsa looked away, slyly rolling up another snowball. Anna noticed the snow beside her throne. So, her sister wanted a snowball fight?

The first shot caught Elsa by surprise, Anna's aim with her left arm was surprisingly good. A snowball clipped Anna's shoulder, smashing into the back of the throne. Anna launched another volley, forcing Elsa to move her own throne.

"Hey, I can't do that!" Anna complained. Her sister had an obvious—and totally unfair—advantage.

"So?" Elsa asked deviously, throwing another snowball.

It missed. Anna's snowball caught Elsa's knee. "Doesn't count if I can't feel it!"

"Oh really?" Anna crowed, the next snowball catching her sister in the chest.

"Oh no… the evil princess has slain me," Elsa flopped sideways in her throne, letting her tongue hang out in melodramatic fashion.

Anna noticed the rest of the chess pieces surrounding her own throne. Chess pieces that were somehow growing arms. Arms with pickaxes. Small pickaxes. Some got shields instead. They advanced on the tower of ice that was Anna's throne. She looked at Elsa. Her sister was still playing dead—but now with a silly grin. Fine. She could do this herself. Then the icy siege engines made it to her tower and started chipping away at the base. Snowballs seemed to do nothing to them.

"Kristoff, save me!" Anna continued her barrage of snowballs as she yelled for help. "Olaf, do something!"

Kristoff leapt through the first rank of animated chess pieces, swinging his icy sword in a wild arc. Two pawns were shattered. He slashed again, a rising strike from ankle to shoulder that bisected a rook with a battering ram. Another strike, horizontal, waist high through a bishop, leading to a rolling thrust into the heart of a knight. The bishop fell to pieces. The knight clutched at its chest, keeling over backwards. Olaf jumped on the back of the other bishop, his stick hands over its eyes.

"See anything?" Olaf asked the bishop.

Kristoff took the opening, diving past a pair of pawns to kick the bishop's shield aside. A two handed slash felled the piece forever. A reverse thrust dispatched a pawn trying to sneak up on Kristoff. Olaf distracted the others.

"Come on, chase the snowman. Chase the snowman!" The pawns lurched after Olaf.

Only a rook and a knight were left to batter the tower. The rook's battering ram shook the throne Anna was sitting on, a massive crack appearing beneath her. Kristoff skidded across the icy courtyard, nearly tripping on the chunks of ice from destroyed chess pieces. A massive blow ripped the rook in half, spraying shards of ice across the courtyard and into the castle walls. Kristoff used the unsteady tower of ice as a pivot and launched himself into the knight, leading with the sword. Cracks spread through the knight like spiderwebs. Chunks of ice littered the courtyard.

The sword in his hands shattered, and Kristoff watched as the pawns chasing Olaf somehow tripped, sprawling into the nearby fountain. Panting a little, the ice harvester offered his hand to Anna, helping her down from her unsteady throne of ice. She took the proffered hand, landing with a surprising amount of grace. She fixed that a moment later by tripping over a chunk of ice and faceplanting in a snowdrift.

Anna looked up to see Elsa still playing dead, flopped bonelessly over the side of her chair, grinning like—well, grinning like an idiot. It was the least self-conscious expression Anna had ever seen her sister make. That made it all the more wonderful. All the more precious. These moments. These were the moments Anna wanted more of. To see Elsa so happy, and for her to be happy too. But mostly Elsa. Because to Anna, seeing her sister's smile was a kind of drug, and she would do almost anything to see it more often.

* * *

**AN:** I felt maybe I went a little OOC for Elsa here, but I really wanted an excuse for her to use her powers and showcase what she can really do if she puts her mind to it. Some of you may notice the similarity to a certain scene in a certain other piece of Frozen FanFic. I know nothing of this. It most definitely did not also include chess. Or Anna playing badly. Or come from 'The Contract'.

Honestly though, that is a great bonding fic to read. Chess is one of the few games I could reasonably consider both sister to know, and be somewhat skilled at. Checkers was another, but seriously—it has to be ice wizard chess.


	17. Misplaced Etiquette

Two days had passed. That much was all Elsa could be sure of. Two surprisingly uneventful days. But that also meant two days where nothing had gone wrong. No fights. No secrets. Two days of normalcy. Well, it was the closest Elsa had ever felt to normal. Anna had kept a more than respectful distance though. She helped, she would never stop helping, Elsa knew. But something was on her sister's mind. She wasn't keeping secrets—Elsa knew how bad her sister was at that—it was just something she wasn't prepared to talk about just yet.

It left Elsa wondering if it was the same thing making Anna stay a little more aloof than usual—or at all. If it was the reason neither of them had slept in the same room for the past three days. If it had anything to do with her actions during that night. Or her revelation to Anna afterwards. Elsa exhaled, trying not to dwell on such things. It was hard. She had only just reconnected with Anna, and now… now there was this unfathomable distance between them. A gulf created by a lack of understanding. Elsa dearly wished she was more of a people person, wished she could read her sister better.

She needed an outside perspective. Someone that wouldn't judge. Someone she could trust. Someone who knew how to keep secrets—and Elsa realized the only person she knew who had all of those traits was herself. The physician, Ulrik might have counted, but she barely knew him in anything more than a professional capacity. More that she knew _of_ him. Knew of his past exploits.

There had to be someone she could confide in. It couldn't be one of the castle staff either. Gerda might understand, even Kai. But Elsa did not wish to burden them with her troubles. Her physical state was enough of a burden as it was. She had a measure of independence, using her chair to move around. She could even manage certain tasks—albeit awkwardly—on her own now if she had to. She had the ability to go anywhere in the castle, and most places in town. Ramps of ice were appearing in odd places and on the sides of several major staircases in town. She usually remembered to dispel them afterwards, but not every time. There had been a few close calls, but the people of Arendelle were getting used to the idea of checking stairs first. It wasn't like the ramps were hard to see, after all.

Her mind wandering, Elsa recalled a conversation she had had in town. A rambling sort of conversation with an overly polite soldier. A Royal Marine. Lieutenant Erikson. That was his name. Could she trust him? Not with a revelation of this magnitude. Certainly not _yet_. But she could test him, see how trustworthy he was. He would make a useful confidante, if her plans worked. If he could be trusted.

"Kai, inform the staff I will be visiting the town this afternoon."

"Very well your majesty. Will Princess Anna be joining you?"

"No, she won't," Elsa sighed, a sad little sound. "Neither do I require an escort."

"Are you sure, queen Elsa. Not everyone in Arendelle has been so understanding about your day of winter."

"Quite sure, thank you Kai. If I find who it is I am looking for, they will be escort enough."

"As you wish. I shall inform the staff presently. Shall I also inform princess Anna?"

"No, not yet. Unless she asks after me she need not know I've left the grounds. I should be back before dinner."

"If you are not, the Palace Guard will be sent to find you."

Elsa nodded her acceptance, dismissing Kai. Shuffling her current paperwork tidily to one side, Elsa spread a map of Arendelle across her desk. It took only a few short moments to plan a route that took her past all the places lieutenant Erikson was likely to be. The docks. The marine barracks. Several taverns—unlikely if he was on duty, however. Tucking the map back into its drawer, Elsa left a note on her desk for Anna, just in case she came looking for her before speaking with Kai.

An hour later Elsa was rolling through the town, halfway to the marine barracks. Lieutenant Erikson had not been at the docks. Neither had he been on any of the navy vessels moored there. Several sailors had asked what she wanted the lieutenant for. 'Official business' had been the reply, to which the reaction was generally a knowing look and whispering to brothers in arms. A handful of the sailors she questioned had suggested she try the barracks first next time, as that was where Erikson spent most of his time.

A strong hand caught her shoulder. Elsa reacted instantly. Ice covered the cobbles for several feet, extending in rough shapes behind her. Hearing a groan of discomfort, she turned.

"Søren?"

"I don't suppose unfreezing me is out of the question?"

"Oh, sorry. Reflex," Elsa offered a chagrined little smile, working to thaw the guildsman. "I was lost in thought there, and when you touched me—"

"I should apologize then," Søren offered a quick bow. "I would also like to formally apologize for the other day. I did not wish to slight the memory of your father. I spoke without thinking of the consequences. Or considering what your opinion on the matter might be. I'd also apologize for eating your lunch, but Frida made me pay for it. Full price too."

Søren made a mockingly affronted face at his last remark. Elsa let out a little laugh at that. Søren was willing to admit he'd made a mistake, and was willing to face up to it. That gave him good marks in Elsa's books, but he had still insulted the royal family—in public. Insinuated that her father's decision had not been in the best interests of the kingdom. Implied that it was against her own wishes. Elsa knew Søren probably wouldn't understand all those implications just yet, but she was willing to give him a chance.

"I–I accept your apology, guildsman Søren," Elsa replied with as much grace as she could muster. "However, I am not ready to forgive you personally. What you implied about my father—about the king—acting against his daughter's wishes was very hurtful. I myself do not know if it was the best way to handle the… situation, but Papa did the best he could with what he knew. Don't protest—you're still welcome on the council, but I don't think I can consider you a friend. Not until—"

"I understand," Søren bowed his head, hiding his face from view behind his unruly hair. "I will attempt to earn your forgiveness, queen Elsa. Allow me that chance at least."

"You have that chance," Elsa replied softly, placing her hand on Søren's forearm. "As _Queen_ Elsa, I consider you a loyal and valuable servant. As _Elsa_, I wanted to consider you a friend… then you said those things about Papa."

Søren gently removed Elsa's hand from his arm. He smiled down at her, a little sad, but understanding that he had broken a trust he had not yet earned when he spoke that day. He took a look around the street, then left Elsa to whatever it was she was going to do today. He would find a way to earn her forgiveness, and watching her chair as she left, Søren had an idea how he might do that. It would be good to work as a blacksmith again—he was feeling a little restless these days, his job mostly liaising between the multifarious guilds of Arendelle.

On the grounds of the royal marine barracks, one lieutenant Henrik Erikson was practicing his musketry drill. It was required of him to be at least as fine a shot as any man under him. The regiment had made Ingvar an exception. Ingvar was an excellent shot, raised as a hunter, but recruited by the royal marines. It was more than that. Ingvar knew his weapon, he had taken the time to study the emerging science of ballistics. He had a found a way to adapt artillery tables to something usable for musketry. He made the third fusiliers the envy of many.

Ingvar's skill was the reason lieutenant Erikson had been wandering the town several days ago—the day he had first met queen Elsa. He had simply been supposed to return with a few items from the Rabbit's Foot. That he hadn't—and the way he had told the story—had lead to much good natured ribbing from Ingvar. This time, however, lieutenant Erikson was sure he could win. Or at the very least force a tie.

Until he was forced to default, a sergeant delivering an urgent message: "The queen wishes to see you."

Ingvar smiled at his longtime friend. He hadn't known the queen would be in town that day, but he wanted his friend Henrik to find someone. Ingvar insisted on calling the lieutenant by his first name. Just as he insisted on being addressed by his. Now that he knew Henrik had spoken with the queen, of course he was going to play matchmaker. It was only fair. After all, he still had trouble sleeping after that one disastrous date Henrik had sent him on. And he was never going to explain about the three spoons somehow embedded in the ceiling of the Rabbit's Foot.

"What did you do?" Ingvar finally spoke, resting his rifle carefully on its side, un-cocking it. "I mean, the queen is actually _looking_ for you."

"Nothing improper," lieutenant Erikson informed his friend. "Which leaves me most intrigued as to why our fair queen would seek _my_ company. This, in turn, means I must forfeit our contest—it would not be proper to keep the queen waiting."

"You made the bet, you don't get out of it that easily, Henrik. We'll start again next time our schedules match."

"That would be at least a month, Ingvar," lieutenant Erikson was walking away, having taken the time to safely unload his rifle.

"It would be worth it, for the look on your face."

Lieutenant Erikson ignored the comments as he walked to the main entrance of the barracks. He honestly had no idea why the queen would have singled him out, aside from the fact they had had a conversation several days ago. An idle chat. That was all. Before the summer snow he knew that the queen—then crown princess—had been famously reclusive. So much so that she had not been seen outside the castle in over a decade. Then it hit him. Elsa was looking for him because he was one of very few people she had spoken with since causing—and reversing—the summer snow.

Upon seeing Elsa lieutenant Erikson's train of thought came to an abrupt halt. She looked quite nervous, a little ill at ease. Several soldiers were staring at her in awe. She waved nervously to lieutenant Erikson, her hand barely moving. He strode over as quickly as possible.

"Lieutenant Erikson," Elsa spoke with a slight tremor in her voice. "Are you on duty?"

"I am not, your majesty," lieutenant Erikson replied smoothly. "I am free man for the afternoon. Within reason."

Elsa gestured towards the town. "Would you walk with me, lieutenant?"

"Certainly, your majesty. If you wish, you may simply call me Henrik—or Hank."

"Hank?" Elsa raised an eyebrow. Watching the road ahead, lieutenant Erikson missed it.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Oh, I was actually asking about the name."

"It was shorter and easier to pronounce than Henrik. My sister used it all the time."

"You have family in Arendelle?"

"Yes. My father is the only one living here now," lieutenant Erikson turned and offered Elsa an uncertain smile. "He managed to outlive everyone."

"Even your sister?"

"I am afraid so. She struck a high fever in her eighth year. I was twelve. That winter was hard on everyone."

"I–I'm so sorry."

"I made my peace a long time ago, your majesty. I will never forget her smile"—lieutenant Erikson—Hank, Elsa reminded herself—reached beneath his uniform shirt and retrieved a small gold locket—"I carry it with me everywhere."

Elsa stopped moving, gently taking the locket in her hands with utmost care. Inside was a miniature painting of a girl's face, still a little pudgy with youth. She had piercing green eyes, and soft brown hair, falling just past her shoulders. But it was the smile that really hit Elsa. The smile of a child. A smile of uninhibited happiness. An innocent smile. If the young girl had grown, Elsa was sure she would have been a great beauty. She closed the locket, a tear in her eye.

"I can see why you keep that, lieuten—Hank. Your sister must have been an amazing little girl."

"She was, your majesty. There were times, however, when she could be a right brat. I still loved her. I always will. She was my sister. The closest family I would ever have. How could I not love her?"

"I know exactly what you mean," Elsa smiled ruefully. "Because no matter what harebrained scheme Anna comes up with next, I'll still love her. She's my sister, and she was always there for me—even if I couldn't be there for her."

"I–I would like to know more, you majesty, but I fear asking for such knowledge would be prying upon private matters you wish not to discuss with commoners."

"You yourself referred to yourself as an officer and gentleman when first we met, did you not, Hank?"

"I did," He replied slowly. "I meant it. However, I do not feel I have earned enough of your trust to be able to know more about your… family history."

"Then perhaps you would like to know more about what happened on that night?"

"You would be willing to share?" Hank looked his queen in the eye, trying to gauge her response.

"Escort me to the courtyard, and we shall see," Elsa offered coyly, gently rolling away from him.

When they arrived at the courtyard of the castle, Hank was impressed. Despite the obvious warmth of the day, it remained frozen. Elsa quickly explained that her ice did not thaw in the same way as normal ice. She also explained that she sometimes practiced in the courtyard when no one else was around. She gestured for Hank to sit on one of the benches at the edge of the courtyard, setting her chair at the end closest to him.

"I–I don't know where to start," Elsa furrowed her brow. "How much _do_ you know?"

"I recall being told you had caused quite the scandal when you ran from the coronation ball."

Elsa knew where to start then. She told Hank of the joy she felt meeting her sister for the first time in nearly a decade. The happiness she felt being able to converse with Anna. Discovering they still shared a fondness for chocolate. She explained why she had initially refused to leave the gates open past the coronation. Anna's sudden departure, then reappearance with Hans. Her proposal. Elsa's own refusal.

She continued explaining further about the evening. Anna's preposterous wedding plans. Hans's attempts to placate both of them. The fact that Anna stole Elsa's glove. How she had reacted to having her glove stolen. Elsa told Hank of the questions her sister had fired at her. How the last question had broken through that last ounce of willpower holding everything back.

"What did she ask, your majesty?"

"She said: 'What are you so afraid of?'," Elsa sighed, wringing her hands. "That's when I decided I'd had enough of the questions. I made a move to cut her off—but I made it with my ungloved hand. A wall of spikes, of ice, separated me from the other guests. In hindsight, it's very lucky no one was hurt by that."

"Ah, but someone was hurt by that action, your majesty. Most inadvertently so."

"No… no, I checked with everyone after–after I got back. No one was hurt."

"Your majesty, I was referring to you yourself. Though the hurt was not physical in nature, it seems clear from your explanation of events preceding the argument that you had found great joy in conversing with your sister, and now you feared that lost."

"You're a very observant man, lieutenant Erikson," Elsa leaned over to place a hand on his shoulder. "Although you are most certainly mistaken this time."

"That was… not your fear at the time?"

"No, it was far worse than that. I feared the townsfolk would think of me as a monster—and I am sure a few did as I tried to escape through this very courtyard, freezing the fountains into unnatural shapes. I feared losing my kingdom to madness. I was afraid of what I was going to become. I was afraid people would be terrified of my magic and try to lock me away—or worse. But most of all, I was afraid that my magic could—_would_—hurt someone. So I ran."

Elsa proceeded to explain her flight, freezing the fjord, sprinting through the forest, making her way up the North Mountain. Explaining the ice palace was easy. She left out Olaf for now—if the animated little snowman showed up, she would explain more—sticking to the most salient points of her self-imposed exile. Elsa told Hank of how Anna had found her, had explained the winter covering all of Arendelle. She explained how Anna had tried to convince her to return home. Then came the hard part. The part she still could not forgive herself for.

"I lost it. I lost control. Anna was so sure her plan would work. I knew it wouldn't. Everything she was saying, it just made things worse. I panicked. The cursed ice struck her heart. You called it a 'family dispute'. It was far worse than that. I killed _my own sister_. I froze her heart. I didn't think there was any coming back from that point."

"Princess Anna seemed quite alive when last you spoke. Complaining about her lack of ability to 'calm down', if memory serves."

Elsa nodded in agreement, tentatively placing her hand over lieutenant Erikson's. He spared a glance towards the leg where his hand was resting, but said nothing. If the queen deigned to touch him, that was her prerogative. He would not—could not—reciprocate without permission. There were things that were just not done around royalty. Lieutenant Henrik Erikson did not know, however, how little the sisters of Arendelle actually cared for such rules.

"I got my happy ending," Elsa said softly. "Anna gave it to me. Hans would have cut me down where I was. Anna froze, taking the blade intended for me. That's how she lost her arm. Something slashed across my back at the same time. A fragment of the blade, perhaps. That is what cost me the use of my legs—and many other things besides. Well, perhaps that is not a happy ending. The cost was high, and while I did indeed get my sister back, I feel like she lost something in the process—something more than just her arm."

"Please forgive my presumption on this matter, your highness, but what if whatever it was that princess Anna lost was something negative—something she needed to lose?"

"Such as?"

"Some kind of burden, an emotional weight, a dark secret. I know not what, I was merely asking of the possibility, for the princess does not appear to be in any way diminished or unhappy."

"You've never seen An—"

"Hi Elsa. So… this is lieutenant Erikson," Anna smiled at her sister, strolling past casually, noting how Elsa's hand lay on top of the lieutenant's. She added in a stage whisper. "You were right. He _is_ easy on the eyes."

Anna laughed as Elsa blushed furiously. How dare she… then Elsa heard a good natured chuckle from beside her. Both of them?

"Is the queen of Arendelle truly so shallow?"

It took Elsa a moment to process the gleam in Hank's eye. The subtle grin pulling at the corner of his lips. "Did you just—was that—are you really—a joke?"

Anna tried to hide her laughter behind her hand, failing utterly. It was fun to see Elsa this flustered. Maybe she would have to learn more about this lieutenant Erikson herself. She watched as a grin cracked across the lieutenant's face.

"It would be scandalous," Elsa recovered her composure, covering her mouth with her free hand to give her a moment to think of a suitable retort. "Most scandalous indeed if it were known the queen of Arendelle first chose her friends based on their appearance alone. Yet, she will not deny having done so. For the man known as Lieutenant Henrik Erikson is of very fine appearance indeed in the queen's own opinion, though she thinks he still lacks certain graces."

Anna almost tumbled into one of the fountains when saw the look on the lieutenant's face. Half affronted outrage, half subtle laughter. Anna turned her tumble into a less than graceful act of sitting on the edge of the fountain.

"Noting that I lack certain graces," Hank shot Elsa a look that sent a strange chill down her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. "Would the queen presume to instruct this poor soul on how to obtain such graces?"

"Certainly," Elsa replied coolly. "For she knows her sister could not be entrusted with a task requiring such tact and determination."

Elsa heard a loud splash from across the courtyard. She looked up in time to see Anna fishing herself out of the fountain she had been sitting against. Elsa smiled knowingly at her sister. Anna frowned at her. It still looked adorable.


	18. Undisclosed Desires

Lieutnant Erikson had left not long after the incident where Anna fell in the fountain. The redheaded princess inquired as to why he could not stay for dinner. His reply was to politely remind her that as a royal marine of Arendelle he had duties that needed attending to. That he had left more than enough time to reach the barracks was left unsaid. He also left unsaid that 'more than enough time' gave him another hour to contemplate recent events.

Princess Anna had seemed every bit as exuberant as queen Elsa had explained. Energetic and unrestrained, completely in contrast to her more poised and refined sister. She had not even commented on falling in the fountain—although Hank suspected that had more to do with not wanting to acknowledge she had a certain clumsiness to her demeanor. Elsa's laughter at the incident had been subtle, but oddly sincere. Not the mocking laugh of someone taking pleasure in another's misfortune, but the laugh of someone who understood that it was possible for anyone to make such a mistake.

Lying on his bunk, fiddling with the buttons of his uniform shirt, Hank wondered further about the queen. What she had told him—about her flight, her powers, the fact she had made an entire palace—it was a lot to take in. In the moment it had felt as though queen Elsa was unburdening herself, telling him all these things. Perhaps she was, he considered. But why me?

Then he recalled other actions Elsa had taken in their conversation. When she had told him he was wrong about her fears, Elsa had placed a hand upon his shoulders. A gesture that would be shared by friends or family. A sort of apologetic touch. Then… just before explaining how Anna had made her happy—had saved the both of them—Elsa had placed her hand atop his. It was quite deliberately done, and as he thought back now, a gesture that held a promise of far more than mere friendship.

But how could he? He was just a commoner, though an officer of the royal marines. She was the queen. There were rules that had to be followed. Protocol that had to be observed. Deep down, however, Hank harboured desires of his own. Desires he knew he could never act upon. Because the one he desired was a royal, and he was just a lowly soldier.

In the castle, Elsa was having similar thoughts. Most of them revolved around creating new insults for her own stupidity. How could I not have seen it? Lieutenant Eriks—Hank is so proper, so upright. Of course he couldn't return my touch. She hoped he had at least _wanted_ to return the touch. She needed a sign that this wasn't going to be a massive waste of time and… she sighed heavily, remembering the _look _he had given her, after her response to his joke about graces. Just imagining the gleam in his eyes, his gentle smile, the way he leaned in slightly. All of it gave Elsa a decidedly thrilling chill.

It was something she'd never felt before. Even when… or maybe she had, but just didn't want to admit it. Her feet had frozen that time, hadn't they? Elsa looked hurriedly around her study. Snow seemed to be drifting lazily through the air. Something about it seemed different. Elsa held out her hand, used her powers to snare a single flake to inspect. It was a perfect fractal snowflake. She stole another from the air. Also perfect, but different, as all snowflakes were.

What makes it so different? Elsa thought, puzzled. Something about the snow had caught her eye. Something about the flakes. Right now, after inspecting a few more snowflakes, she couldn't say what it was that so intrigued her. She wheeled her chair back from the desk. Perhaps moving about the room would give her greater perspective. Perspective. That was it. She gently plucked another snowflake from the air. It was too large. Almost double the normal size of her snowflakes.

Elsa rolled towards a small drift building up in the corner of her study. She carefully took a handful of snow. It felt feathery, soft, almost weightless. Still cold, but perhaps not as cold as what she normally made. Paperwork could wait. For a little while. She was going to explore this odd change in her powers. The exploration would have gone much better if Olaf hadn't strolled past a minute later.

"Hi Elsa. Hey look, a big flurry. Is this for me?"

"No, it was—I was thinking about som—my control still isn't as good as it should be."

"Oh," Olaf's face fell when heard the flurries weren't for him, "I'm sure you'll get. You're like the smartest, bravest, warmest, nicest person there is."

"I think you're talking about Anna."

"No. I mean _you,_ Elsa. Hey, wanna build a snowman?"

"Do I—what?"

"A snowman."

"Olaf, _you're_ a snowman."

"Oh, I know. I just thought it might be nice to have some friends around. Just to visit, I mean. Can you imagine what they'd do to the guest rooms—ick."

"Are you–are you lonely, Olaf?" Elsa asked her most unexpected creation. "D–Do you want me to make more snowmen like you?"

"Oh, heavens no. One of _me_ is enough. But maybe someone to talk to, that doesn't always talk back. Kinda like Sven. Or that pretty girl with the bun in her hair. Or the statues out the back."

"It sounds like you have plenty of friends here Olaf," Elsa was even more confused by this than when she was sorting through her feelings for Hank.

"Oh sure, but they're like rock stars, or reindeer. Or running away a lot."

"Anna doesn't run away. I don't run away. Krisotff doesn't run away—well, when he's here."

"But Anna's not always here. You're busy lots. Kristoff—talks to Sven."

On a whim Elsa conjured a snowman from the air next to Olaf. Three large balls of snow. Rummaging through her desk Elsa found something for eyes and buttons. Even a nose. Royal seals—wax copies of the seals for buttons. A pair of pen nibs for eyes. An empty ink pot for a nose. The grin on Olaf's face just grew and grew as Elsa added the final touch to her latest creation. She topped it off with a hat Papa had worn once, long ago.

"He looks so sophisticated," Olaf bowed to the other snowman. It still lacked arms. Olaf frowned. "Here buddy, take my arm."

Elsa laughed at the literalness of Olaf's words, the little snowman detaching an arm then attaching it to the other snowman. Olaf happily dragged the inanimate pile of snow from the study, regaling it with tales about jumping off cliffs and fighting snow monsters. It was so absurd Elsa couldn't help but smile. This was her doing. Another thought sobered her. So was Marshmallow. She wondered idly how the real monster she had made was doing. If he had survived the siege of her icy palace. Given the men from Wesealtown had managed to get inside, probably not.

But she still wanted to see her creation again—the ice palace, not Marshmallow. She would need help to get there this time. Maybe it was time she admitted to her sister that sometimes she really did need to be alone. But not _too_ alone. And maybe Kristoff might like to see the palace again. A trip into the mountains, awkward as it might be for her with so many people. If they got too annoying she could simply throw them from the balcony, right?

Elsa gasped in shock. Where the hell had that thought come from? Was it a joke? Somehow, she doubted it. But why; why had she even thought that, even in jest. She honestly had no idea. It had just come to her from nowhere. Elsa took a deep breath, trying to remember exactly how her palace had been laid out. Remembered nearly driving the Weaseltown soldier over the edge of the balcony. He would have fallen on twenty feet of powder. Hardly fatal.

But what she had nearly done to the other man—that would have been unforgivable. For an instant Elsa was grateful to Hans for stopping her. Just for an instant. Even so, it was his words that had stopped her. Had prevented her from becoming a monster. For all his faults, the traitor prince of the Southern Isles had still managed to do something good. It was as nothing compared to the pain he had caused, but it forced Elsa to revise her opinion of the man. Slightly.

With a little extra effort Elsa managed to dispel the snow in her office, then set about finding Anna. There were two things to discuss. First, returning to the ice palace. Second, and harder to ask, would Anna help with bath time tonight?

"I don't get it Joan," Anna was talking to the portraits again. "I mean, I get it that some people—I mean some girls—like girls. But I don't get it. How does it work? Do I even want to—nevermind. And why _Elsa_, of all people. Did I really mean what I said about—when I suggested that? Ugh."

Joan didn't reply. Being a painting limited her options in conversation. She was an excellent listener however. Anna liked that about Joan.

"See, I like Kristoff. Like _really_ like him. Okay, I love him. He's cute, kinda scruffy. He doesn't mind that I'm messy and uncoordinated and have about as much grace as a turnip. I think he likes that actually. He likes Elsa's ice stuff of course—I mean come on, he's an _ice harvester_. I think something might be wrong with him if he didn't like her stuff. Anyway, yeah, I like him quite a lot, and he likes me that way too. And I dunno Joan, am I ready to go further?"

A quiet voice came from the door. "Is _he?_"

Anna let out a horrified shriek before she saw Elsa's wheelchair sitting there. "You know it's not nice to sneak up on people like that. I could have been doing anything!"

"Like talking to paintings?"

"Better than talking to a door—I mean, I used to do it when you stopped talking to me. I came here when I got mad at your door. Or sad, or just… it doesn't really matter. I just liked talking to the portraits because I could see who I was talking to. No one else would stay still long enough. Okay, okay, Gerda definitely tried, but she acted kinda like a grandmother. I mean, if we'd seen our grandparents. You ever wonder about that Elsa?"

"I—Oh, I hadn't considered it too much. I've traced them out on the family tree of course—trying to find out if anyone else had powers like mine—but not really thinking about them as people. Papa and Mom were supposed to be enough, weren't they?"

"I just wish… well, it would have been _nice_ to have more family. To visit them sometimes instead of being shut in the castle. Or have them visit us. I'm sure they could have helped you with your powers. I know it."

"Maybe," Elsa replied cautiously. "You remember I told you about the great storm, when you were four?"

Anna nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs around the room.

"There was another reason you were too scared to leave my bed. You probably don't remember it too well. Honestly, my memory is a little hazy too. During that storm grandpa got sick. Papa's father. It wasn't just the normal kind of sick either. I remember he was coughing blood, and calling for someone—Elise, I think. Papa explained later that Elise was grandpa's wife, but she had died shortly after Papa was born. When the storm had finally passed… so had grandpa."

Anna sniffed a little. "I never knew. But what about Mom's parents?"

"I don't know Anna. The family tree gets a little confusing there. The queen of Corona is shown as Mom's sister, but there's nothing above either of them. I asked Kai about it once, but he didn't know, so I had to look this up in the library. It means Mom and her sister were commoners. They had no royal lineage to trace, so they became the first of their names writ upon the family tree. We could try and find Mom's parents—we really could—but we'd have to search all of Arendelle, and ask for help to search all of Corona."

"So maybe we could visit them," Anna was undeterred. "One day. If—when—we find them."

"You always want to be around so many people," Elsa sighed, resting her chin against her hands.

"And you don't. I know it's hard for you Elsa. I really appreciate the fact you're trying to get to know Kristoff better—hey, if I married him would that make him first of his name on the family tree?"

"It would," Elsa nodded. "Anna, there's something I'd like your help doing."

"You're not still embarrassed asking about that are you?"

"Ah–a little. But it's not about that," Elsa directed the conversation back to what she really wanted. "Do you remember the ice palace?"

"How could I forget?"

"Sometimes… sometimes I really want to go back there. To be alone. Just for a little while. I'd come back, really. It's just…"

"You'd miss me too much?" Anna placed her hand over her heart and smiled. "You do care."

"Yes, well, sort of. I mean, I'd like to ask you to help me visit the ice palace. If that's okay with you."

"Oh," Anna didn't really have an answer. She wanted to help Elsa in any way she could—but would doing this lead her back into old habits?

"It's okay if you want to say 'no', Anna. I'd just like to go back there one day. Okay, maybe for a few days. Just to visit. Like a holiday."

"I–I'll help you get there," Anna promised. "But you have to promise me you won't go mad with power or something and try to stay there forever, sending an army of Marshmallows to attack the town."

"Wait, why would I do that?"

"You went mad with power, why not?"

"Fine," Elsa smirked. "They eat you first."

"Hey, that was uncalled for."

"You started it. You said I'd go mad with power. Why not abuse the privilege?"

Anna replied with a most unladylike snort. How dare Elsa do that. How dare she do it _right?_ Anna smiled a little as she realized what had just happened. She had just implied Elsa was going to go mad and stay in the ice palace forever. Elsa's first response had not been denial or attempting to change the subject. It had been to tell a joke.

"Why are you smiling?" Elsa sounded slightly concerned.

"Oh, it's just, I kinda implied you'd make an army of monsters—"

"You outright stated that part, actually."

"Anyway, I said that stuff, and you didn't go all panicky or try to change the subject."

"So?"

"You _told a joke_."

"I don't get why that's such a big deal. I can tell jokes all the time."

"Bad ones. But the point is, you didn't try to shut me out, or deny what was happening. You understood enough to make it funny."

"You," Elsa pointed at her sister. "Are surprisingly perceptive."

"I've been told, when people aren't interrogating me about the company I keep on the walls here. Or with certain doors. Or… was there something else you were going to ask about?"

"Well," Elsa started wringing her hands nervously. "I do need a bath tonight. And I was wondering—"

"I'll help," Anna's reply was so direct and simple it shocked Elsa. "We can't pretend that never happened, but I can say I know you a little better now. In a good way. Plus, you can tell me _all about_ what mister prim and proper was telling you in the courtyard."

"His name is Hank—or lieutenant Erikson to you," Elsa pointed at her sister with the last part of that statement. "And I was mostly talking to him, not the other way around."

The rest of the day passed without incident, although Anna did seem quite restless through dinner. After dessert, Elsa saw Kai placing a few items on the desk in her study. Wax seals, an ink bottle, something that flashed silver under the moonlight from the window.

"Thank you Kai," Elsa spoke softly.

"It is my duty, your majesty. Although I will admit that pet snowman of yours can make quite a mess."

Elsa sighed, shaking her head. "Just tell me, what did he do this time?"

"Freyr's shrine, behind the castle. I honestly have no idea how he manages to get up there, but I can always tell he's been there. Snow everywhere. Usually a trail of destruction around the walls too. Broken sticks, trodden grasses, disturbed stones. The groundskeepers make quite an effort to ensure the back of the castle is more than presentable."

"I may have to have a talk with Olaf then."

"Perhaps, your majesty. The other staff often complain that he acts like a child. I will not pretend to know how he—is it really a he?—came to be. But I hope it is not improper to ask if he actually _is_ a child?"

"I don't know Kai," Elsa gave her advisor and most trusted servant an uncertain smile. "He might be, he might not. When I created him—I don't actually know _how_ I created him. Anyway, I was thinking of Anna, just before the accident. So he might be like me. When I was eight."

Kai said nothing, merely nodded.

"Or he might be like Anna."

Kai visibly paled at the thought. He still said nothing, just silently excused himself, leaving Elsa to continue her sojourn through the castle. She was heading to the big bathroom. One not often used due to the elegance of the fittings and its proximity to her parents' old room. She knew she had every right to use it, as did Anna. It just seemed a little odd, but Anna had insisted. And when Anna insisted these days, Elsa found it hard to refuse.

Outside the bathroom, Elsa could hear water running, and what sounded like a lot of splashing. She knocked on the door. Anna invited her in. Elsa slowly cracked the door open, not quite sure what to expect. Well, the water on the floor made sense, considering all the splashing. The fact Anna was actually in the bath made sense too.

What did not make sense, however, was the mass of fizzing bubbles above the surface of the water.

"Anna," Elsa cocked her head slightly, giving her sister a quizzical look. "What have you done to the bath?"

"Oh, this?" Anna splashed a little, generating more bubbles. "Kjellson called it a bubble bath. You just mix a few bath salts together—and a couple of other things—and hey presto, tons of bubbles. It's awesome. I mean, it is, right—you're not like morbidly afraid of bubbles or anything are you?"

Elsa laughed softly. "Of course not. But I am going to need help getting in there."

"I'll give you a hand," Anna laughed at her private joke as Elsa was undressing. "_A_ hand, Elsa."

"Oh, very funny princess sinister," Elsa shared her own little joke as she struggled with the last piece of clothing she was wearing. "Well, are you going to help me?"

Anna rose from the bath, splashing her way to the edge. It was then that Elsa noticed the bubbles clinging to her sister, forming a sort of veil. Just enough to protect her modesty. Well, almost. She looked away a little too quickly. Anna caught her out.

"It's okay to look Elsa. I mean, okay, it does make me a little uncomfortable that you're kinda looking at me the same way I want Kristoff to, but looking isn't going to hurt me."

Anna brushed some of the bubbles away before leaning over to lift Elsa from her chair. It was awkward, it always was with only one arm. Elsa crossed her arms behind Anna's neck, hanging on as if she were afraid to ever let go. Anna enjoyed the closeness, even if she did feel a little awkward knowing what she did now about her sister's desires. Anna gently placed Elsa in the bath, then slipped back beneath the bubbles.

"I mean, I know what it's like to want something like that, and to not be able to do anything about it—argh. The sauna was nice. Kristoff was nice—very nice. What about your guy, Hank? Does he look nice? Can you tell?"

Elsa took the soap, lathering it up her arms. "Of course he looks nice. He's in uniform, he's clean, well mannered—"

"No, I mean… umm, without a shirt. You can imagine, right?"

"I think so. I mean, his chest would be rather flatter—and a whole lot wider—than yours for starters," Elsa was none-too-subtly soaping up her own chest at this point. "I guess he'd have to be pretty muscular, being in the military. I'm not actually sure if I like that. Maybe not huge muscles, but muscles like he actually uses them."

"Like Kristoff!" Anna's excited movement sent waves rippling across the bath.

"But Kristoff _is_ huge, Anna," Elsa eyed her sister warily. "I mean it's good. Some people like that"—Anna stuck out her tongue—"He's nice too, which is a bonus. But I've seen smaller_ trees._"

"So he's a bit more manly around the middle than your guy, so what?" Anna wasn't sure if she should be defensive or jealous. Or just plain confused. It wasn't the muscles that had attracted her to Kristoff in the first place—they were just a nice bonus.

"I think I like that about Hank," Elsa replied evenly. "He's tall, but not really imposing. Okay, I don't think people would mess with him, but I think that's the way he walks. With purpose and determination. Sure of his goal."

"Ah, our queen likes her men with confidence," Anna winked at her sister, stealing the soap from her hands. "And she likes her women with a bit of fire."

"I guess I do," Elsa sighed wistfully. "You just seem to make everything fun, Anna. You make life worthwhile. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Anna blushed, but accepted the compliments none-the-less.

"Okay, sometimes you can be a little chaotic, and clumsy, and accident prone, but you can laugh it off. You're amazing like that. And you've definitely got more grace than a turnip."

"You did not." Anna went a brighter shade of red.

"Oh, I heard _everything_," Elsa winked, blushing a little herself as she stole the soap back from Anna's unprotesting fingers. Fingers and something else. Soft and yielding. Anna let out a surprised gasp.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Anna admonished her sister.

"I can't see anything through the bubbles!" Elsa protested, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry, I'm—"

"Stop it," Anna warned her sister. "You don't have to keep apologizing. It's just—I kinda understand _why_, but—the soap?"

"Well, I need to wash my legs too," Elsa was still blushing. "I just—okay, maybe I went too far. It was an accident."

"Sure," Anna poked her tongue at her sister. Then a thought occurred to her. She couldn't keep it in. "Hey, your legs—well, between them, can you still—umm, 'feel' anything?"

Elsa just tilted her head, a look of utter confusion on her face.

"Your—y'know, lady parts—can you? I mean, if you ever got with someone, could you still? I'm rambling, and it's too personal I know but I was really curious and I don't really know what else to talk about and is that why you can't have family and… and…" as Anna spoke her cheeks burned, her blush becoming almost incandescent. Elsa had dropped the soap with a loud splash at the mention of 'lady parts'. She now sat next to her sister, completely frozen. It was as if a switch in her head had been flicked to the 'off' position.

Anna waved her hand in front of her sister's eyes. Elsa didn't even blink. "Great. I just broke the queen."

* * *

**AN:** Well, I had fun writing that. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. I'd also once again like to take a moment to thank everyone who has taken the time to leave a review, or favourite or follow this story. You guys are the reason it's still going. That, and the fact I love writing—and sometimes I even manage to write good. I mean well.


	19. Gone

Elsa lay on her bed, thinking. Anna lay next to her, silent for once. Both were in nightgowns, their bath finished some time ago. Elsa did not have an answer to Anna's question. Still had no answer. She was unsure whether she actually wanted to find an answer. Eventually, perhaps, but not right now. Anna had been uncharacteristically silent after asking that question. Elsa could tell her sister knew she had crossed an unspoken boundary—without thinking, but probably without meaning to either. Anna was just like that. She spoke her mind, held nothing back.

"I'm sorry," Anna whispered to the night. "It was _too_ personal I know and I'm not supposed to talk about things like that but you're my sister and I'm sorry but I care about you—all of you—and that means things I probably shouldn't talk about with anyone ever and I—"

"Anna," Elsa placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, turning to look her in the eye. "I know why you asked, I do. It's–It's hard for me. To talk about these things. I never—well, I honestly never thought about things like this before. I don't want to talk about it now—but I will talk about it later. I promise. I'm not ready yet. That's all."

Anna breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Thank you. Really, I mean thank you. You're not shutting me out. You just told me why you can't talk about something. Hey, you wanna gossip about men instead?"

"Wait, what?"

"Well, you've met lots of guys now. Søren, doctor Ulrik, lieutenant Erikson—or 'Hank', to you—I'm sure there are others you're not telling me about," Anna winked mischievously at her sister.

"Oh, you're sure are you?" Elsa's eyebrows rose. "Because if I'd met anyone else that would be news to me too."

"Oh, come on, play along," Anna pouted.

"Fine, but you only know two guys: Hans, and Kristoff—and dear lord I know more men than my _sister!_"

Anna giggled at Elsa's horrified expression at this revelation. "You can tell me all about them. Which guy are you gonna pick? Why? Are you leaving any for other people?"

"I already have," Elsa waved a warning finger at her sister. "I don't know. I don't know that one either. And finally, you have Kristoff, why do you want to know?"

"Because… umm…" Anna's eyes were darting from side to side. "Options?"

Elsa smiled ruefully, falling silent. She turned to look at the stars outside the window. Realized she wouldn't be able to see them with the lights still on.

"Anna, could you turn out the lamps please?"

"Tired?"

"I want to look at the stars."

"Oh, okay," Anna rose from the bed, turning out each of the gaslamps around the room. Soon the only light came from the window, and she flopped back down on the bed next to Elsa.

Elsa's mind wandered as she watched the stars. The stars never changed. Okay, her books on astronomy said they moved around incredibly slowly, but they never changed places. It was something she had always taken comfort in. The night sky was beautiful, magical, and mysterious. It was full of dark promises, as she had so often believed she herself was. The blackened sky was harsh and cold, just like her magic. The stars shone bright, just like her eyes—Papa always said they had a special little gleam. Elsa tried to remember what else the night held for her—then she recalled all the lonely nights spent in her room, wishing she had no magic. Wishing she was normal. Wishing she could hug someone. Touch someone.

Someone lying right next to her. Someone whose presence she had come to appreciate only recently. Someone who helped her see the best in herself, even when she didn't want to hear about it. Someone who could forgive her for her most heinous actions. Someone who loved her so deeply it hurt. If every star was a tear, I still would not have cried enough. Elsa sighed, bringing her hands up to hug her arms. She could feel herself slipping, falling back into old, painful memories. It had happened without her even thinking about it.

Elsa felt an arm drape around her shoulders as something soft pressed against her back. She turned slightly as Anna rested her head against her bare shoulder. Elsa took Anna's hand in her own and squeezed it tight. It was all she could do in that moment. She felt her sister's lips tenderly brush her cheek. She felt Anna squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her without words.

Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. Anna just lay there—was _there_—for her sister. Anna gave Elsa support as she struggled with her demons. Sometimes she would be fine. Sometimes she wouldn't. Anna could not tell in advance how her sister was going to react certain things. How could she have known that seeing the stars through the window would have made Elsa so sad? So she just lay there, holding her sister close until she felt better. But she could not stay silent forever—or more than five minutes, as Elsa often said. So she sang a quiet lullaby.

A lullaby their mother had shared with them long ago.

Your baby blues  
So full of wonder  
Your curlicues  
Your contagious smile  
And as I watch  
You start to grow up  
All I can do is hold you tight

Anna held Elsa even closer, brushing her cheek against her sister's, remembering how their mother had hugged her when singing the end of the verse. Elsa shuffled back, nestling up against Anna, unshed tears making her eyes shimmer. Anna continued to sing, her voice soft and melodious.

Knowing…  
Clouds will rage and  
Storms will race in  
But you will be safe in my arms  
Rains will pour down  
Waves will crash around  
But you will be safe in my arms

Elsa turned her head just enough to face her sister, tear tracks barely visible in the moonlight. "That was Mom's lullaby. That was… sometimes I wish…" Elsa sighed heavily, not bothering to wipe away her tears. "I really like it when you sing."

"I added another verse," Anna whispered back, then began to sing again. "I was thinking of calling it 'Elsa's Refrain'."

Story books  
Are full of fairy tales  
Of kings and queens  
And bluest skies  
My heart is torn  
Just in knowing

Your castle, it may crumble  
Your dreams may not come true  
But you are never all alone  
Because I will always  
Always love you

When the…  
Winds will howl and  
Storms will rage  
You will be safe in my arms  
Snow will fall down  
Ice will crash around  
But you will be safe in my arms

In my arms

"I–I don't understand," Elsa sniffed quietly. "After everything…"

Anna kissed her sister on the cheek, brushing away her tears as she did so. "No matter what, Elsa, I'll always love you. I always have, and I always will. Nothing is going to change that. And if you don't believe me, well"—Anna kissed her sister's cheek softly one more time, then flopped back against the covers—"you're a dummy."

A comforting darkness enveloped the room, and Anna began to doze, her arm wrapping around Elsa for warmth and comfort. Elsa smiled, rubbing her arms, and closed her eyes. It had been a long day.

Elsa looked all around. She was on the North Mountain somewhere. Her palace was gone. The sun was setting, the pines casting long shadows. Shadows that flowed like ink spilt on a page. Something was wrong. The shadows were tinged with red. But she already knew they were dangerous. No, it was something else. Her legs. She could move her legs. She was standing upright. Elsa knew, instinctively, that something else was amiss. Missing.

Anna was missing. The shadows were closing in. Elsa heard a scream. More shadows swirling in the distance, tinted red by the dying sunlight. Elsa threw her hands out wide, driving the shadows around her back with giant walls of ice. The shadows sprang from the ground, slamming into the ice like battering rams. Cracks and splinters spread across the glassy surface. Another scream in the distance spurred Elsa onward.

A sound like a gunshot breaking glass echoed behind Elsa, but she didn't care. She had to reach Anna. She had to get the shadows away from her sister. Elsa ran, throwing her magic wildly at the shadows that leapt at her or tried to trip her. Spikes of ice littered the mountainside behind her. The shadows hounded her every step, while Anna's screams urged her to move faster and faster.

It seemed as if she would never reach her sister. Anna's screams became more anguished, and Elsa had to risk throwing magic ahead of herself to stop the shadows closing in and preventing her from reaching Anna at all. She ran faster and faster, a great trail of snow kicked up in her wake. The shadows were faster. She felt something slash her cheek. Elsa retaliated instinctively, spearing the shadow through its heart. A line of fire traced across her arm. Another shadow frozen solid.

Elsa ran and ran, her sister eternally out of reach. Something slammed into her back and Elsa stumbled, falling to the ground, kicking up a plume of powdery snow. She rose. Tried to rise. Realized her legs wouldn't work. She remembered something like a dream—this had happened before, or was it after? She had dealt with problem in stages. But getting to Anna was a more pressing problem. A toboggan would work perfectly.

The small icy sled shot down the mountain at breakneck speed, the sole passenger flinging spikes of ice in all directions to drive back the shadows growing ever closer. Anna screamed again. She was close. Very close. Elsa threw out a wave of ice, smashing aside the shadows in her path. Frost coalesced in Elsa's palm as she saw the shadowy giant. A giant icicle, meant to pierce the monster's heart.

Elsa drew her right arm back, holding her left arm out towards the shadowy giant. She threw the icicle like a javelin, watched it as it flew. The giant howled in pain—screamed as it fell backwards. The shadow shrank as it fell, blood pooling beneath it, staining the snow. Elsa recognized the dress. The hair. The face. She sped over, hoping she wouldn't have to see what she knew was on the twilit snow.

Anna lay in a pool of blood, gasping for breath. Elsa crawled agonizingly slowly to her sister's side. Tried to take Anna's hand. Her sister's arm faded to shadow, to a snowy mist. Elsa watched in horror as Anna began to dissolve, vanishing from existence. She could only remember her sister having a single arm. Something wasn't right. Elsa knew it wasn't right. The beautiful young woman in front of her was fading away, vanishing into the night. She had to do something. She couldn't remember who the young woman was, only that she was important—very important—to her.

"What's your name?" it seemed absurd to ask such a question, but Elsa had to know the young redhead's name. It was as if her entire existence hinged upon that fact.

"I'll never…" the redhead fought to make herself heard. "Never forgive…"

"No. No no no no no," Elsa held the young woman's remaining hand tight. She wished with all her heart she knew who the young woman in front of her was. She wished she knew why she was bleeding into the snow, slowly fading into the night. Something ached deep in Elsa's heart. A memory buried far too long. A young girl, with red hair in pigtails, flying through the air. The name still escaped her. The purpose of the memory.

Elsa wept, not knowing why this stranger affected her so. What had she done? What had they done? The woman became a ghost on the wind, her voice echoing across time.

"I'll never forgive you."

Something deep inside Elsa broke. She felt it like a physical pain. Something shattering into a million little pieces, never to be whole again. Elsa lay shivering on the mountainside. She never felt cold. Something was wrong. It felt like a piece of her soul had been torn asunder. She lay on the mountainside, tears falling like the snow—or the snow falling like her tears. She didn't care anymore. Let the snow bury her for eternity. She had done something horrible. It was only what she deserved.

Someone grabbed her shoulders, shaking her roughly. Elsa blinked. The redhead from her dream was straddling her, still shaking her. Elsa blinked again. The young woman had vanished. She'd just watched her fade to nothingness. Elsa rubbed her cheek. But she could definitely slap pretty hard for a ghost.

"Wake up!" another slap.

Elsa rubbed her cheek again, taking in everything around her. Ice coated every surface in her room. Snow fell from the ceiling and covered most of the bed. Spikes of ice jutted out around the bed. Anna was still on top of her. Elsa caught her sister's hand before she could be slapped again.

"What did I do?" Elsa asked timidly, afraid of the answer.

"You were whimpering and moaning, and all of a sudden ice was just everywhere. Then the snow fell, and then you attacked the walls with ice spikes, then you were screaming and crying so I had to wake you up and do you—was it the same nightmare?"

"It _was_ a nightmare," Elsa looked up at her sister. "I was fighting the shadows and they chased me and they kidnapped you I think, then I killed the big shadow but it was _you!_"

Elsa looked helplessly at her sister. Anna hugged her tight.

"And then–then you were dying, but it was wrong because you were fading. I forgot you. I forgot your name. Your face. Everything. The only thing left was your voice. And–and something broke inside me. Really broke. It felt like my soul had been ripped in half so I just lay there on the mountain so the snow could bury me forever so no one would have to be hurt by me ever again and—"

"It's okay Elsa. It was just a dream. Everything's okay now. You're safe. I'm safe," Anna shivered as she spoke. "We're in your room and it's actually kinda cold in here so if you could thaw this out it'd be nice."

Elsa gave a sad little laugh. It took her a long time to thaw everything out. Far longer than usual. Anna said nothing, but Elsa knew she noticed. Anna snuggled into Elsa's back again, breathing softly.

"And next time you want to bury yourself forever," Anna whispered, mildly annoyed. "Leave me out of it. That was cold."

But she still didn't let go of Elsa.

* * *

**AN:** Another chapter with a song. I think putting in a song every now and then is reasonable, given the story that inspired this was a Disney princess musical. Once again it's by Plumb, the lyrics for In My Arms, adapted to suit my purposes. You can find a good Frozen AMV with it here: youtube dot com /watch?v=qwtvbJIoH60

I do realize it's more angsty than recent chapters, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Life without drama would get rather boring. It's just that the drama here is psychological.


	20. The Council

Søren Skjeggestad was working late into the night. It was not an uncommon occurrence, especially with the guilds still refusing to cooperate fully. But that was not the reason he was working late on this particular night. The reason was a project he had undertaken, at his own discretion, to apologize for something. He was also hoping it might lead to something more between himself and the recipient of the gift.

All of Søren's concentration was taken with the task at hand, curling a c-section bar of steel into a loop while red hot, forming a perfect circle. A wheel. Much like the many spoked wheel of a bicycle, although this one would be larger. Well, it would be a wheel, in time. For now it was just a rim. Søren quenched the loop of steel, the oil making a darkly sibilant hiss as it cooled the metal. The guildsman smiled, enjoying the activity.

It had been a long time since he had been employed as a Blacksmith, but Søren still remembered everything. Some would say it was like riding a bicycle. For Søren it was a passion, something he always tried to dedicate a little time to every day. Over the past few years, everything else had fallen by the wayside as he concentrated on raising his son, Konrad. Now Konrad was old enough to look after himself, even earn some coin in his spare time. Søren had hoped his son would take up the family trade.

Instead, Konrad defied convention by becoming a baker. A stout young man, with a mane of red-gold hair just as unruly as his father's. Søren smiled at the thought. He had not approved of Konrad's choices at first, but after tasting the various savories his son made—along with having a ready supply of fresh bread—Søren had every reason to be proud. Soot covered hands reached into the satchel on the back wall, retrieving one of Konrad's savories. Those same hands placed the savory on a small metal plate, and then placed that plate atop the coals in the forge.

Søren turned back to the designs he had sketched out over the previous days. He had already managed to complete the frame. Narrower than usual, but queen Elsa was quite slight compared to most of the people in Arendelle. The problem facing the frame now was that it was only that—a frame. Hard metal bars, wrought into shape and set aside. The seamstresses would have to be approached for options. Padding would of course be required, but Søren knew metals, not fabrics.

There was one piece that would not be covered. The very top of the backrest. Søren considered it some of his finest work, a finely wrought snowflake, embossed in silver filigree against a round field of steel. The townspeople of Arendelle might never see that symbol, but he knew queen Elsa would. She would see it every time she looked at the chair. Hopefully it would remind her of him, what his hands were capable of. What he wished they might one day touch.

Søren wanted to help the queen, but he also wanted more. It would start with the chair, and an apology for his behaviour at lunch that day. Søren still wondered why Elsa had said those things to him. They were obviously private, and painful—had she revealed them without meaning to? Søren took some time to consider this, checking on his savory as his mind wandered. Elsa had been angry, more so than shocked or sad, as he might have expected with such a revelation. Perhaps anger loosened her tongue. To a dangerous degree, he thought darkly.

It was more than that, and Søren knew it. He had hurt her, and he wanted to make up for it. His first gift would pave the way for something more to blossom between them. It had been a long time since he had known Sylvi's touch. Had known the touch of any woman. It had been a long time since Konrad had anything close to a mother in his life. Søren figured they both deserved someone new in their lives. A good person. A kind person. A person who knew how to protect herself. And to Søren, Elsa was that person.

Firing the coals in the forge again, Søren placed the hoop of metal he had been working with in the flames. He used a pair of tongs to retrieve his savory after a few minutes, enjoying the flavour of the meat and spiced gravy. His son truly knew how to make a satisfying snack. Small wonder the bakery he worked at was doing so well. Søren watched the steel hoop slowly change colour as he ate, and he fired the forge to greater temperatures. Straw was the first colour, then brown, purple, finally, as dark blue began to creep towards the edges of the hoop, Søren removed it from the forge, placing it in the cooling rack.

Now he needed to make a matching hoop for the other wheel. An axle, hubs for the spokes. Tyres—another person to bring in, another guild to seek help from. Søren was wise enough to know where his skills lay, and more importantly, where they did not lie. He was not prone to making the arrogant mistakes of his youth, where he had thought that one man could do everything. Almost everything. He thought of Sylvi, wondered what she would have made of the queen—of his current passionate work. Søren smiled ruefully. He knew exactly what Sylvi would have said—and how directly it would have been delivered.

Elsewhere, Per Johanssen, the minister of trade, was slumped over his desk, snoring lightly. That suited the only other occupant of his office just fine. Stefan Larsson gently pried a document from beneath the older man's arms. It was the most recent reply from Spain, delivered as a formal letter. From the lack of a postmark—and the inclusion of a royal seal—Larsson assumed it had to have been delivered by diplomatic courier, probably the clipper he had seen pull into harbour the previous day. The ship had been flying Spanish colours, but he could not be sure it was the right ship. Not until he saw the letter.

As a scribe Larsson had a good excuse for knowing many languages, especially as the ruling council was not the first political body he had served. Translation had often been required in the past, at his previous position with the merchantmen, and that was how he had come to minister Johanssen's attention. Officially he worked for the ruling council, taking notes, transcribing records, and generally playing the part of the good little assistant. His faculty for remembering odd details and most conversations made his true role much easier.

That was why he was scribbling in a notebook right now about the trade deal. A note he knew his masters would receive far sooner than the king of Spain would get minister Johanssen's reply. Time Larsson's masters could use to plan and react. Because severing trade with Weselton was not something to be done lightly—or at all. There would be repercussions. Arendelle was not feeling them yet, but the shortage of Weseltonian goods would soon be felt. Especially if something were to disrupt the trade negotiations with Spain. His job would have been so much easier had minister Johanssen not been so maddeningly robust for his age.

Replacing the letter, Larsson slipped out of Per Johanssen's office, leaving no sign he'd ever been there. It was very late, he only glimpsed two other people on his walk home. One was heard more than seen, Søren, banging away at some ludicrous project. Well, it was better than the paperwork he'd been drowning under, Larsson assumed. Or maybe it was a way of venting his frustration at the same. That hammering had sounded quite energetic.

The other person he passed paid him no attention. Larsson liked it that way. He wore a properly tailored suit, with an overcoat of dark grey wool. Nondescript and easily forgotten. He wore his regular suit—a size too small—during the day, and affected a generally unkempt appearance. People were likely to underestimate him that way. It was surprising that no one yet suspected him of what he was really doing. Or perhaps, I really am that good, he allowed himself a moment of pride in his spycraft. After attempting to sabotage the deal with Spain, he was going to need a scapegoat. Larsson went over the aides minister Johanssen employed in his mind. Yes, Einar would work perfectly. Young, defiant, and with so much to prove.

Sunlight streamed in through high windows, and Vanja Ostberg-Lang blinked back tears. The sun was disgustingly bright this early in the morning. The council advisor looked at the devastation that lay in her wake. Two drunk sailors, passed out on benches. A slowly sobering corporal, half on the floor, propped up somewhat by the end of a broken table. A blacksmith and an ice harvester—each with a glorious black eye. Vanja rubbed at her left eye. Definitely swollen. Nothing for it. Not with a council meeting after lunch.

Vanja blinked against the sunlight, turning around carefully to prevent her head from spinning any faster. She didn't remember much of the incident, but an axe was embedded in the splintered remains of a viking shield. What was left of the shield sat about three feet to her right. Vanja remembered something about a broken nose, and raised a hand to gently check for damage. Not her nose then. Frida? Well, it was possible, she had been serving most of them the previous night. It didn't matter that Vanja had drunk most them under the table. The remaining three caused enough trouble for an entire drunken mob.

Something else came back to Vanja. How Frida had finally ended the drunken brawl—well, a serving tray would explain the ringing in her ears. There was a slight swelling where she suspected the serving girl had walloped her with the tray. Why Frida had hit her first Vanja couldn't be sure. Maybe because everyone had been attempting to outdo her at the time. Vanja stood, yawning, and immediately regretted the decision. Standing sent her brains rocketing skywards, and the yawn did something similar to the contents of her stomach. Vanja snapped her mouth shut and sat down again quickly. Maybe she needed a little more time collect her thoughts before heading off.

In a few hours she would have to support the queen, and the rest of the council, in everything they did. She would voice her opinion as advisor, then they would most likely ignore her, as usual. But queen Elsa brought a new power to the council, and Vanja wasn't entirely sure she was happy with the new dynamic. Monarchs had it easy. The queen especially so—people loved pretending to support those less fortunate than themselves. That's why charities existed. Vanja snorted in disgust, rolling her eyes for an invisible audience. The queen as a cripple was getting more than her usual share of attention and sympathy from the rest of the council.

Vanja quietly wished for the queen to make some terrible decision, and to have that choice see her deposed, or at least removed from the council. Then she thought about who would be first in line for that position if Elsa left. Perhaps the current royal posterior upon that seat was truly the lesser of two evils. Vanja tried to imagine 'queen' Anna, and failed utterly. But something told her, somehow, that an eternal winter would be a vastly preferable kind of disaster compared to princess Anna ascending to the throne.

Bishop Clarence Gudbrand was worried, nervously thumbing through a sheaf of notes he had made after the last Mass. By all accounts it had been a strong sermon, powerfully delivered. The messages of forgiveness and acceptance had rung true for many among the congregation, but there were those who spoke in dark whispers, a fact Bishop Gudbrand took especial note of. Perhaps the allegory between the variously persecuted prophets and their eventual vindication and queen Elsa and her—powers—had not been clear enough.

Perhaps it had been enough, but those men and women simply refused to accept it. Bishop Gudbrand himself was still having a hard time reconciling what he knew of queen Elsa, her parents and sister, and what he knew now. The king had spoken of a curse, in passing, several times. Gudbrand had taken it to mean one of the king's daughters was suffering from some sort of mental affliction. For a long time he had hoped it had gone away; been cured or excised in some fashion.

Then Elsa had fled the coronation ball, and everything had been revealed. Bishop Gudbrand wished he knew nothing of it. In all his years amongst the clergy, he knew such powers—such magic—were the sole province of the Fallen One, the lord of darkness. By agreeing to serve on the ruling council again, he hoped to discover what truth lay behind those words. Was their queen truly cursed—the Spawn of Chernaborg, as some said—or had her powers been granted by divine agency, to test the faith of her subjects. It was a sensitive and disturbing issue, and Bishop Gudbrand planned to use more than just his faith to find the answers he sought.

Later that morning, Justicar Hanne Kristoffersen was also looking for answers. Politely, among his aides. They had seemed much calmer than usual when they arrived at the courthouse on this morning. He had grilled all of them over their surprising calmness and lack of urgency. They had responded by showing him the vast piles of paperwork they had churned through over the previous week, and the handful of open cases they were still working on. Justicar Kristoffersen expected no less. But that now left his aides with worrying amounts of freedom.

Well, freedom was always worrying, but these three, Torsten and Ansa, along with Ari Stendahl were good folks. They were old friends, growing up together on the outskirts of Arendelle. They had come to Justicar Kristoffersen's attention during their schooling. Torsten had a good head on his shoulders, a firmly rational mind, and an excellent memory. He was an excellent understudy to Kristoffersen himself, and he hoped someday to promote the young man to the status of Judge. Ansa was an exceedingly smart young woman—too smart for her own good. The trail of clues she had uncovered in the Whaler's Fiasco of 1837 had almost cost her her life, but proved her worth as an investigator par excellence. Justicar Kristoffersen had insisted she come under his tutelage. Lastly, young Ari Stendahl, a lad of no more than nineteen, youngest of the three. He had been rescued from the streets of a neighbouring town, rescued by Justicar Kristoffersen when the Justicar saw why he had been cast out. Ari was an expert at finding and selling secrets. He was Justicar Kristoffersen's secret weapon during disputes and feuds.

None of them were him, of course, Justicar Kristoffersen reflected. His three aides were more aspects of himself that he had cultivated together. A thirst for knowledge, and the proof of what was right and wrong. A desire to know every detail of a story before acting upon it. And finally, the ability to discover secrets most people would prefer to take to their graves. His aides might not be him, but when they worked together they were staggeringly effective. Justicar Kristoffersen closed the ledger he had been scrawling these notes in, then began his journey to the castle. The meeting would start just after lunch.

Marshal Markus Gerhardt stared down the table at the current queen of Arendelle. He had taken the time to learn more about the queen from what little public information was available, and what he'd been able to infer from the other council members' interactions with her. There was no desire to see a repeat of what had happened during their last meeting, regardless of how justified either of them had felt in making their respective statements. Marshal Gerhardt knew that queen Elsa's powers were the most powerful weapon in Arendelle's arsenal. He'd just gone about trying to show her that in the wrong way. That was why he had opted to talk first. Marshal Gerhardt took a deep, calming breath, and began.

"My apologies for my behaviour at the last meeting, your majesty. I know now, in some way, how you view you powers. It would please me, however, if I could explain how they appear from a purely military viewpoint—as I so clumsily attempted to do last time."

Elsa was frowning, but she said nothing. Gerhardt could almost see the keen intelligence at work behind those pale blue eyes. It was the coldly calculating kind of intelligence he could respect. The queen spread her hands, palms up, offering him the table. Gerhardt gave a small bow of acceptance, noticing the aura of frost around those delicate hands. Delicate, yet immensely powerful.

"Thank you, you majesty. I realize that comparing your powers to a weapon was tactless in consideration of what people say they have done in the past. However, from a military point of view, especially one as small as our own, we must claim every advantage we can find, no matter how small. The advantage of your magic however, is in no way considered small. Both the tactical and strategic possibilities are staggering. I know that some of what I am about to say will disturb you, but if possible, please hold your tongue until I finish explaining everything."

Elsa frowned, furrowing her brow and giving the Marshal a dark look, but she remained silent. Frost slowly crept across the table beneath her hands.

"When I mention tactical possibilities, I mean to say what is possible upon the field of battle, in combat. From what I have heard about your powers, I can see that they would be powerful in both offensive and defensive roles. Offensively it would be possible to freeze individual soldiers—perhaps just as blocks of ice, to prevent them moving. The ice spikes you create could obviously be thrown, and spears and javelins still serve some peoples as highly effective weapons. Defensively you could create walls of ice that might be thick enough to stop bullets. You could create rings of ice spikes as palisades to hold enemy infantry and cavalry at bay. In some cases you could influence parts of the battle without even fighting. Calling down fog, thick snow, icing the ground underneath enemy soldiers, freezing weapons solid.

"While the tactical possibilities are interesting, it is the strategic use of your powers that could ensure Arendelle's future safety against all threats. Were an army to attempt an invasion, you could create a storm so severe that they would be forced to turn back. You could freeze all their supply lines, destroy their support elements without firing a single shot or landing any blows. If an attack were to come from the sea, you could easily freeze it over, trapping the ships and sailors until they could be dealt with, or forced to turn back. Arendelle could, in effect, fight without fighting. Without ever having to lose a man in combat."

Marshal Gerhardt saw the fractal spirals of ice wending their way across the table. The furious expression on the queen's face. The fury was softened by something Gerhardt couldn't quite catch. Some glimmer of hope or understanding or something entirely different. Perhaps it was the last line. Was the queen a pacifist?

"I know this is hard to take in, your majesty, but that is the military assessment of the utility of your powers. My assessment. I know you would never use your powers in those ways. You would never want to. Perhaps you are afraid that once you do so, you would be unafraid to do so again. Perhaps you are right, but remember, as queen, you—and you alone—have the final say in all military matters. Arendelle has soldiers. Brave young men willing to follow any order they are given. Willing to fight for their country. And yes, in the end, willing to die for it as well. They would sell their lives most dearly, but they would still be dead.

"It is true that in every battle there are casualties. Commanders try to ensure that their enemies suffer many more, such that they lose the will to fight. The good commanders remember. The dead have names. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. But those same commanders always ask themselves the same question. They never stop asking. They never will, until they die, or until there are no more wars. They ask this: 'What else could I have done?'. They ask this so that they always remember the cost of battle. The cost in lives lost and families torn asunder. They ask, because they know, next time, it will be worse. That is the way of war.

"So, queen Elsa, knowing what the soldiers in your army are willing to do, I ask only this: Would _you_ do any less?"

Frosted snowflakes covered half the table as Elsa took a deep, shuddering breath, hiding her face behind her hands. When she spoke, it wasn't the voice of the queen. It was voice frail and full of hurt, freshly afraid of the world's cruelty.

"Leave," Gerhardt turned for the door, opening it quietly, standing on the threshold. There was a long silence. No one dared speak until they heard Elsa breathlessly whisper something else. "All of you."


	21. False Divinity

**AN:** I have sixty-five followers… sixty… five. I'm impressed, and honestly, a little confused. I never considered my work to be that amazing, merely "somewhat polished and mildly interesting", but I've been wrong before. Thanks to all of you, and all who favourite and review too. You guys (and girls) are the reason I keep writing.

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There was an old adage about giving someone sufficient rope, and Elsa had thought that that was what she was doing with Marshal Gerhardt, allowing him to speak so bluntly in front of the council. What he had suggested awoke a dark fury within her, but she held it at bay. She wanted to know what he had to say. To see if it was worthwhile allowing him to retain a seat on the council. After all the talk of her powers being used to defend Arendelle—and implying that she would personally be responsible for halting and killing entire armies—Elsa had been completely unprepared for Marshal Gerhardt to appeal to her sense of duty and humanity.

She had been unprepared for him to be _right_. The men serving her by serving in Arendelle's military… how could _she_ do any less. They were prepared, quite literally, to die for her. If they ever entered battle those brave young men knew it was a possibility. All of them. Gerhardt had said something about the dead having names. It hadn't been said as an appeal either. She had seen what flashed behind his eyes when he spoke those words. He knew from bitter experience.

Elsa lowered her hands, gently wiping her cheeks. It took a moment, but she was able to unfreeze the table with relative ease. She used her magic for an instant to form a mirror of ice in her right hand. She dispelled it a moment later, satisfied that no evidence remained on her face. The rest of the council could guess, of course, but they wouldn't know. Wheeling her icy chair away from the table, Elsa hoped the other council members had not gone far. There was still much to discuss. Well, she hoped there was. Most of them had thickly bound ledgers to refer to.

She found the council's advisor—miss Ostberg-Lang—first, waiting just outside the door to the meeting room, leaning against the wall.

"I'd better collect the others then. They can't have gone too far," Ostberg-Lang pointed back at the door to the meeting room. "Wait in there. Won't be too long."

Back inside the meeting room, with the rest of the council present, Elsa spared a glance at the ornate grandfather clock on the far side of the room. It had only taken a grand total of ten minutes to reunite the council. Several of the members so seated were fidgeting nervously. No one spoke. None of them were sure if they should speak. Elsa could deal with that. It just meant she had to take charge, as usual.

"Minister Johanssen, do I hear that the negotiations with Spain are going well?"

"Very well," the older man nodded, smiling. "A few wrinkles here and there, but they should be ironed out within a fortnight or so. Before we finalize the deal, it may prove wise to send a diplomatic mission to Spain. The queen and her consort, it must be said, are not on particularly good terms. I would volunteer myself, but I fear my body is not yet ready for the rigours of such a journey."

"Who goes is up to you, minister Johanssen. You have a much firmer grasp on your aides' capabilities than I ever will. Now, is there anything else?"

Minister Johanssen remained quiet, scribbling a short note in his ledger.

"Very well, I guess the guilds are next. Søren?"

"Much the same as last week, your majesty. They still refuse to talk to each other or cooperate on most tasks. I am beginning to think they are doing this just to spite my efforts at creating a unified front for the workers," Søren spread his hands helplessly in the air. "I haven't heard of any incidents involving the castle, so I'm going to assume everyone managed to stay polite this week?"

"They did. Although the man who came in this morning had a black eye and a suspiciously furtive demeanor."

"Probably my fault," Vanja Ostberg-Lang spoke up. "There was some roughhousing at Hus av Strykejern last night. Didn't appreciate the way he touched me."

Vanja winked as she said that, then rubbed her eye. Elsa couldn't help but notice the council's advisor was also developing a black eye. Perhaps something to discuss later.

"Aside from that, the only issue the guilds are having is the lack of precious metals that Weselton used to supply. Some farmers are also running short on seed, but I know that most of it is bluster—they're afraid of suffering a harsher winter than usual this year, and want extra, just in case. I won't blame them for trying," Søren smiled, then shook his head, falling silent.

"Thank you Søren," Elsa turned to face the next member of the council. "Justicar Krisotffersen, do the courts have any news for us?"

"There has been a recent spate of thefts, but we have a solid lead on those who are probably responsible. It would be helpful if we could have a few members of the town guard to help us with future investigations. We could even establish a proper constabulary. Arendelle continues to grow, and one day it will be a necessity, not a nicety."

Elsa frowned, considering what Justicar Kristoffersen had just said. Arendelle was a growing town, but not quickly, not from the reports she was privy to. A constabulary would not be fully necessary for some time to come. The request for the town guard was not unreasonable, and it would give them some variety in their work. Probably a good idea in the long run. Then, if they had to establish a constabulary at some point in the future, there would be appropriately skilled men to staff the place.

"I do not think a constabulary is necessary yet, Justicar Kristoffersen. I will, however, free up a number of the town guard to assist your investigations. Will six men be sufficient?"

Justicar Kristoffersen opened his ledger, inspecting his notes. "Six will be adequate. If more men could be made available it would be helpful, but it is not critical to our current investigations."

"If I find guards with an excessive amount of free time, I shall direct them to assist you," Elsa clasped her hands, then set her gaze upon the only full member she had yet to address. "Bishop Gudbrand, have you made any progress?"

"I may have, you majesty, but I keep feeling like we are taking one step forward and two steps back. It may be that those concerned about your powers are too set in their ways to change their opinion. It may be that some of the congregation are simply afraid—I know it is not an air you deliberately cultivate, but your powers, combined with the fact you are not often seen makes you seem cold and distant, and to some, I am sure, darkly mysterious.

"Of the men I mentioned last time, I have seen neither hide nor hair, so they may well be gone. I would certainly hope so."

"I hope so too, Bishop Gudbrand. I would like to know I am safe while walking the streets of my own town. Admittedly, I have not felt any especial danger while exploring the town, but I have always had an escort of some kind, or I have been in view of the townsfolk. Perhaps those with darker intentions are simply afraid to strike—and that is not a comforting thought."

Marshal Gerhardt cleared his throat loudly. "Perhaps, if the queen is concerned for her safety, she could employ a bodyguard. I know of several men perfectly suited to the role—I would trust them with my own life."

"If I were to employ a bodyguard, Marshal, the one I employed would be chosen at my sole discretion," Elsa did not say that she was unlikely to trust anyone the Marshal chose. If she was to have a bodyguard, their duties would most likely extend to include her general care while outside the castle, amongst other things. It would be a position of considerable trust. On both sides. It was not something she could trust Marshal Gerhardt to be impartial about.

Marshal Gerhardt merely nodded, but Elsa saw something else flash behind his eyes. She hoped it was merely annoyance at being rebuffed, but feared it was something far worse. Bishop Gudbrand was thumbing through the stack of notes he had, staring intently at one particular line. Trepidation shadowed his face as he spoke.

"Queen Elsa, as the religious representative of this council, it falls to me discuss matters concerning higher powers, and gifts or curses. Many members of the congregation—and of the clergy—are quite interested in learning what caused the manifestation of your powers. They wish to know if you are gifted by the Almighty, or cursed by the Fallen One. This may sound impertinent—actually, it is—but I would like to ask if, at some other time, we could explore the true nature of your powers?"

Elsa held the bishop's gaze. He didn't flinch. "Why not now? There is no other business to discuss here."

There was a general shuffling as the others made to leave. All except Gerhardt.

"You too Marshal. I know exactly what you want from my powers, and you're not getting it. Not today," Elsa waved her hand and sent a swath of frost across the table, stopping just short of Gerhardt. He got the message. I'll never use my powers the way _you_ want me to, Elsa swore to herself. "Now, Bishop Gudbrand, if you would be so kind as to assist me in moving to the library, we can begin."

"Oh, oh, yes your majesty," Gudbrand schooled his features into something he hoped was innocent expression as he moved behind Elsa's wheelchair, feeling the chill of the ice like the bite of an animal as he gripped the handles. He wasn't sure if it was going to be a demonstration or a history lesson, but he was sure it was going to be enlightening.

Elsa had always enjoyed the library. It was not, as many surmised, a large room. In fact, it was not much larger than her own bedroom. But, unlike her bedroom, every inch of the walls was covered in bookcases, countless volumes by authors past and present. Not all of it was dull, dry history and lineage either. There were several romances, the collected works of Shakespeare, and some traditional fairy tales. There were also painstakingly translated and illustrated copies of both the Poetic Edda and the Prose Edda. They were among Elsa's favourite books. In her childhood she had often wondered if she were actually descended from one of the Jotunn. If she was, she knew it would fly in the face of everything Bishop Gudbrand believed in. But aside from mythic interpretation, she had no way of knowing what had given her her powers. Her curse. There were positives, of course, as she knew now, but for the longest time all they had brought her was pain and isolation. The fear of hurting someone else.

Bishop Gudbrand sat opposite Elsa at the largest desk in the room. Several books were opened between them, including the Eddas. A lot of those texts would have been deemed heretical in an earlier age. They still might be, but her father had saved them from the pyre. His desire to understand what his daughter was going through was almost as strong as Elsa's desire to understand what her magic actually was.

"Your father saved a lot of older books and codices."

"He did. For me. I think he wanted answers just as badly as I did—as I do. I've spent countless hours with those books as my only companions. All I can tell you is this, Bishop Gudbrand: the answer we seek, it's not in there."

"Perhaps not," Gudbrand agreed. "I seek a slightly different answer however. You want to know why, or how. I want to know _who_. It's quite an important distinction, especially as I can see only two possible answers, as I mentioned at the council meeting. The problem here is that neither answer seems satisfactory. If your powers are indeed a curse, then that implies they should be excised—that you are being punished for the sins of the father, as it were. But if your powers are a gift, that implies the eyes of the divine are upon you, and your every action is being judged—as are the actions of all those around you. Frankly, the idea of finding an answer scares me beyond belief, your majesty."

Elsa considered those words very carefully. Not just what Bishop Gudbrand had said, but how he said it. When he mentioned there being only two possibilities, Elsa knew the Bishop would not trust any other explanation, no matter how rational. That he outlined his suppositions so clearly was concerning. Elsa had not had much experience dealing with fanatics. Even if the Bishop was still doubtful of the provenance of her powers, she doubted being able to provide a 'correct' answer. If it could be proved that her ice magic was somehow infernal in nature, that would damn her in his eyes. If she denied knowing where it came from, that would be just as damning. And if she protested that it was divine—not that she thought for a moment it was—that would simply be called out as an infernal soul denying its true nature. She was to be damned, and this man sitting in front of her was to be the instrument of her damnation.

"I am still searching my soul for how I should treat your powers," Bishop Gudbrand continued to speak, his voice soft. "But I have come up blank thus far. Nothing is told of powers like yours in the holy books. The only mention is of witchcraft, and the signs of the witch. The punishment laid out is terrible, and that is one of the things I fear. If your powers are a curse, I know there are many members of the congregation who would call on me to enact that punishment. I could not, in good faith, deny that request. But I have no proof you are a true witch."

Elsa managed to hide her reaction as the Bishop spoke. She had read texts of medieval times. She knew exactly what would have become of her then, overprotective father or not. And the good Bishop had as much as promised to do the same if he thought her powers infernal in nature. She shuddered, wringing her hands in her lap, then absent-mindedly began to leaf through the book in front of her. Frost gathered around her fingertips, leaving little imprints of ice in the corner of each page. If it came down to it, she knew what she would have to do—but she wouldn't. To do _that_ would damn her completely. She could run, escape somehow, find a way to live in the mountains, back in her palace, with—that was it, proof her powers could be divine.

"Unfortunately, I have no proof you are not a witch, either," Bishop Gudbrand sounded disappointed. "Your relationship with your sister, how little you are seen around town. But you have no cauldron, no broomstick—though I admit a broomstick might be faster than your chair. Cliches, it might seem, but they say it is the mark of the witch to own such things. You could quite easily have placed a spell upon your sister to hide your secrets, perhaps even upon the council. But I doubt that very much."

Elsa took a deep breath, spreading her hands on the table. What she was about to reveal was something she had only realized was possible when she made Marshmallow. She had never used that power since. It was sacred. Divine. The breath of life was not a toy.

"You asked if my powers could be divine?"

"I did, but I fear more that they have an infernal source."

"With these hands," Elsa spoke in a measured, even tone. "I have created life. What further proof of divinity would you need?"

Elsa watched as Bishop Gudbrand's face fell and his eyes widened in shock. His brows furrowed and he pointed straight at her, his right arm trembling with righteous fury.

"Abomination!" the voice was so loud it made Elsa wonder if it truly had boomed forth from the heavens. "Only the divine can create life. What you have made—attempted to make—is a profanation of all that is good. None but the divine can create life. No one amongst mankind can wield such a power. No one."

Elsa cowered in her chair, arms raised to shield her face, her head turned aside. The temperature in the library had dropped ten degrees. Frost was forming on the windows. The Bishop's breath was beginning to mist in the air. But still he ranted on, about the evils of witchcraft, and the dark sorcery her father must have wielded. Elsa could feel the black pit in her stomach opening up to swallow her. This was not how it was supposed to go. How could it have gone so wrong?

Ice covered every surface, hooks and spikes slowly crawling from the walls. Walls that shifted from purple to red. Gudbrand towered over her, and Elsa was paralyzed with fear. She couldn't move. Bishop Gudbrand was too imposing. She couldn't move, because she was afraid of what she might unleash if she did. She hadn't been this scared, this angry, since… since… since Anna.

Elsa brought her fist crashing down on the desk in front of her. The ice shattered in a rippling wave, silencing the Bishop. She spoke a single, deadly word. It was a word, combined with her magic, that she had used only twice in the past. It was a very final word. It meant she had reached the end of her patience and self control. Bishop Gudbrand had even witnessed one of the prior uses.

"Enough!"

The desk erupted in a wall of ice spikes as the temperature in the room dropped another twenty degrees. Bishop Gudbrand scrambled back, almost falling over in his haste to avoid being impaled. Elsa saw the look on his face. She knew there was no salvaging this situation, but she had to try. She had to. She owed it to herself, if no one else. It looked bad, no, terrible, but she was going to try anyway. It wasn't her fault that he had succeeded in making her that angry.

"Sit. Down," Elsa ordered, summoning a gust of wind to slam the door behind the Bishop. "Now we're going to have a talk. About how I've had to live with this curse for _twenty years_. Then we're going to talk about the fact my magic has the power to kill. And lastly, we're going to talk about how creating life is the only purely good thing my magic has ever done."

Bishop Gudbrand sat, slowly, shivering. It wasn't the cold. It was the incredibly forceful reminder that despite being crippled, despite being cursed, Elsa—queen Elsa—was literally the most powerful person in all of Arendelle. Gudbrand was legitimately terrified of what would happen next. Of what would happen if he left this room and hadn't changed his mind—or even if he would be allowed to leave. The queen had a lot of power. She had cowed Marshal Gerhardt into leaving a council meeting in session. Gudbrand had never seen that happen before. Gerhardt _never_ left.

"It–it's freezing i–in here," Bishop Gudbrand's teeth chattered as he spoke.

"Then I'll make this quick," Elsa promised.

She spoke eloquently, with grace. She explained her childhood traumas. How she had managed to fight her demons, to keep them at bay. It was not the story Bishop Gudbrand had been expecting. It was not about dark pacts, or infernal texts, or even disobeying her parents. It was a story about a little girl, discovering far too young how cruel the world really was. It was the story of a sinner, constantly seeking to atone for her past. It was the story of a young woman, riven with loss and doubt, but still standing strong enough to lead a kingdom. It was the story, honestly told, of how her powers were as dangerous as they were mysterious. It was the story of how little she truly knew of her powers. It was the story, Bishop Gudbrand was quite sure, that would one day make her a saint. Had not young Joan's story started much the same way?

Bishop Gudbrand hadn't noticed while Elsa spoke, but the room was now considerably warmer, the walls merely frosted, not iced over. The desk was dark wood, not spears of ice.

"I do not think," Gudbrand spoke carefully. "That you should tell anyone else about your ability to create life. Especially not Gerhardt."

"But most of the town has seen Olaf, they have to have figured it out by now."

"Your pet snowman?"

"Yes."

"Have they?" Gudbrand asked honestly. "Do they know it was _deliberate?_"

Elsa sighed. "Even _I_ don't know if it was deliberate. I was just as surprised as everyone else the first time I saw him."

"Then perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps you _don't_ have the power to create life. Perhaps, in your darkest moment, the divine decided to take pity upon you, and showed you the greatest kindness."

"But Olaf rescued my sister, not me."

"I have seen princess Anna together with you, queen Elsa. I am quite sure the divine had his reasons. Perhaps Olaf rescued Anna so that she could rescue you."

Elsa nodded, unable to speak. Gudbrand, satisfied at last with the answers he had, stood, bowed, and turned to leave. Elsa sat behind the desk, idly leafing through the pages of the book in front of her. She had created Olaf, accidentally, but the little snowman had gone on to save her sister's life. Perhaps Bishop Gudbrand's theory was not quite so outlandish after all.

Perhaps it was even the truth.

* * *

**AN:** So, okay, that last piece may have been a little out of left field, but not everyone is coldly rational. Priests tend to get a bad rap, and this might be personal bias on my part, but it just seemed right after that kind of revelation. Afterwards, the "Joan" line—if someone is scared enough it becomes very easy to change their mind, or for them to rationalize a way to change it that fits with their belief system.


	22. A New Dawn

Elsa lay in bed, utterly exhausted. She had not been terribly active during the day, but the council meeting, and the subsequent discussion with Bishop Gudbrand had been mentally and emotionally taxing. She knew she had not handled it well. She didn't want the Bishop's mind to have been changed because he was afraid, she wanted it to be changed because he believed in her. She hoped he did. Hoped he still could after such a display. Elsa sighed, bringing her arms up to hug herself. She was a terrible person—how she'd acted today proved that. She hadn't told the Bishop about Marshmallow either. Then again, only herself, Anna, and Kristoff knew of that snow monster.

Elsa found herself once again wondering if Marshmallow had survived the siege. The only way to know for sure would be to go back to the ice palace and find out. But for that she needed to get out of town for a day or two. Would need Anna's help. But she couldn't leave. She had to apologize to Bishop Gudbrand for treating him like that. She sighed, rubbing her arms. She might even owe Marshal Gerhardt an apology, if it went that far.

"I'm a terrible person," she spoke to the night.

"Nah, you're nice, an' soft, and fun and stuff," came a half-comprehensible reply. An arm draped around her as Anna snuggled into her back. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I—is it okay to say 'no', Anna?"

"Yeah, s'okay," Anna waved airily. "Not really 'wake righ' now. Oooh, unicorns."

Elsa rolled her eyes, facing away from her sister. Then again, Anna did have the excuse of not being entirely awake. It was well after midnight, but it wasn't Anna's fault Elsa couldn't sleep. Elsa kept going over the discussion in her mind. It was at the moment she revealed she could create life. She remembered a phrase from several of her stories. 'Like a man possessed', and she was fairly sure she'd seen just that. The question, of course, was possessed by _what?_

She had no real answer. Religious fervour, perhaps. Righteous fury—Elsa decided that definitely sounded right. Or perhaps simple shock at such a revelation? It was entirely possible. After all, Bishop Gudbrand had said creating life was the sole province of the Divine. Could it be that he thought she was comparing herself to a god? Elsa frowned inwardly. That was the last thing she would compare herself to. A demon maybe, or a cursed soul, but never a god. And then there was what Gudbrand had said about her creation of Olaf.

Elsa still had no idea if that had been deliberate. There was a certain elegance to the Bishop's theory. She liked that elegance—but how could she explain Marshmallow? Everything just fell apart at that point. And it still felt like she'd terrified the Bishop into changing his mind, not calmly convinced him. She was still a little afraid of what Bishop Gudbrand had said. What if she really was granted her powers by the Fallen One. Would Anna be taken away?

Elsa shivered. That was her real fear now. Not driving Anna away, or hurting her—though those still played on her mind—but the thought that Anna might be taken away from her because of her past transgressions. She had refused to acknowledge her sister for thirteen long years. Now she had Anna back, and she still felt like she didn't deserve her. And she was afraid of something—anything—proving her right. She couldn't help it. After thirteen years of isolation she didn't have many bright moments to fall back on. Only her most recent memories. And not all of those were exactly happy either.

"Sometimes I just want to run away," Elsa admitted sadly to a softly snoring Anna. "To keep you safe… so I feel safe."

Anna muttered something incomprehensible, then rolled to the side, somehow pulling at Elsa's hair. Elsa grimaced, then gently disentangled her hair from Anna's nightgown. She had absolutely no idea how it had gotten that tangled, but these things just seemed to happen around Anna. It was almost as if her sister projected chaos and disorder. Elsa felt her sister's hair, the tangled mass of curls it always wound up as. Quite how Anna managed to do this within half an hour of going to bed was still something of a mystery, but it was also part of her charm. She smiled, remembering the chess game they had played several days ago. How she had cast Anna as the evil princess, then played dead when Anna's snowball had struck her. The look of joy on Anna's face had been magnificent. Elsa wished she had more memories like that.

Rolling herself over, Elsa wrapped her sister in a sleepy hug. She promised herself, before falling asleep with her sister in her arms, that she was going to try harder to _make_ better memories. For both of them. They deserved that kind of happiness. They also deserved the happiness other people could bring. Elsa knew that meant Kristoff for Anna, but she wasn't sure who it meant for her. She had feelings for Anna—how could she not, her sister was simply amazing—but she knew those were the kind of feelings she should never act on. Then there was Søren. He was clearly older than her, she thought he was perhaps in his thirties, but couldn't tell much beyond that. The guildsman liked her, that was clear enough, and he was willing to reach out to her… but he took liberties when he spoke sometimes. Finally, there was Hank. Lieutenant Erikson, so uptight and formal… she had to find a way to get him to loosen up, to see the real him. Well, he was used to following orders, acting all proper on parades. He was a military man. An officer and a…

Elsa smiled. Something Gerhardt had mentioned struck her then. If she was concerned for her safety, why not employ a bodyguard? And as queen, did she not have the ultimate power in choosing who that might be. As a gentleman, how could he refuse? Elsa smiled sleepily, nestling against her sister. There was a way it might work. Maybe… maybe she had a chance after all.

The following morning saw Elsa enjoying a solitary breakfast. Toast and eggs, nothing fancy. Shortly after waking up she had decided what today was going to be about. That meant nothing fancy, nothing taxing, nothing boring. Today was going to be something to remember. Because today, Elsa had decided, was going to be all about Anna. With the council running smoothly, and so few issues requiring attention right now Elsa had decided she would take a day off from being the queen. Instead, today, she was going to concentrate on being the best sister she could possibly be. Anna deserved no less.

That was why she made sure to set the tray aside _before_ waking Anna. She had worked hard to make these things—admittedly, she'd asked for help from the kitchen staff at some points, but she at least _tried_ to do it herself. Her own solitary breakfast had been something of a test run. It honestly hadn't been too bad. In the same way she might have described lutefisk as 'not too bad'. Elsa tapped her sister on the shoulder. Nothing. Tried again. Still nothing. Tried shaking Anna. Strange mumbling.

"Wake up Anna!"

"I'm awake. What time is did I miss something corneration?"

"Anna,"

"Up for hours," Anna yawned. She turned to Elsa. Saw the tray on the nightstand. Anna blinked, uncomprehending. Her brain still needed more time to properly engage and what was Elsa doing? Was that… had she?

"Did you…?" was what the red-headed princess of Arendelle finally asked her sister, gesturing to the tray.

"Breakfast. Just for you," Elsa smiled encouragingly. "I made it myself."

"Umm… you made me breakfast?" Anna mumbled, grabbing the glass of what passed for freshly squeezed orange juice. She made no comment on the large pieces of orange pulp still floating in the glass. "Ugh, that's way too sweet—who helped you with that one?"

"The kitchen staff. I thought you'd appreciate breakfast in bed. My bed."

"No, no, I appreciate it, it's just that juice is really, really sweet. Were Kjellson's kids in the kitchen?"

"I didn't _see_ any children."

"Did you _hear_ any?"

"Maybe," Elsa couldn't really be sure what she'd heard in the kitchen. It was, to her, a very loud place, not at all like what she was used to. She had tried to tune out everything but the voice of the person currently helping her. Now Anna was telling her that she needed to pay more attention. Because apparently Elsa wasn't the only one capable of sabotaging her attempts at cookery.

"Did you really make this?" Anna asked, sitting up as Elsa placed the tray across her lap.

"I did," Elsa beamed with pride. "Although even I wouldn't have eaten my first try at that."

Anna held up a slightly blackened finger of toast. "The toast might just be a little bit slightly overdone."

Anna dipped the toast in her egg anyway, and took a tentative bite. Then another. She swallowed loudly, then reached for the orange juice.

Elsa hid her face behind her hands, barely daring to peek out from behind her fingers. "It's terrible, isn't it?"

"No, no its—okay, yeah, a little bit. But I mean it's not bad for your first try and I love that you tried, and it's really awesome that you'd do that for me and okay maybe that's waaay too much sugar talking now but why do this for me? Why today?"

"Because I'm not the queen."

It was most unfortunate Elsa had spoken just after Anna had taken a big gulp of the orange juice, because it now meant that Elsa's duvet was covered with that same juice. Elsa clenched her fists in frustration but said nothing. This was going to be _Anna's_ day. She wasn't going to ruin it by getting mad at her sister. Not so early in the day anyway.

"Am I still dreaming?" Anna asked the air, pinching her cheek.

"It's just for today," Elsa explained, moving closer to the bed. "I decided that with everything going so well that I had to do something special just for you. For _you_, Anna. So today I'm not the queen, I'm just your big sister—and I'm going to try to be the best sister you've ever had."

"You're the _only_ sister I've ever had," Anna stuck out her tongue.

"Very funny. But I mean it. No queen stuff—as you like to call it—today. I know how badly you wanted this when we were younger, so today, it's just you and me. I'm here for you, for a whole day. No distractions. No interruptions. Just you and me."

"Kristoff might be here in the afternoon."

"Might?" Elsa was skeptical, although she knew Kristoff kept his word, he didn't often keep a reliable schedule.

"Okay, will. I asked him. I didn't know you were going to do this," Anna leaned half out of the bed to hug Elsa, nearly spilling everything from the tray. She barely caught the glass of orange juice with her left hand. "And it's amazing. I–I'm sure he'll understand if I ask him to wait another day."

Elsa heard the trepidation in her sister's voice. As if she was afraid of seeming ungrateful. Afraid that this amazing gift might be taken from her. Elsa understood that fear all too well, but at least in this case she could do something about it.

"I'll understand if you want me to leave this afternoon instead," Elsa spoke softly, taking Anna's hand when she'd found a safer place to put the orange juice. "I know how much Kristoff means to you, at least, I think I have a good idea of it."

"Why can't I have both of you?" Anna asked with a devilish wink. Elsa blushed. She knew exactly what her sister was talking about.

It took Elsa a few seconds to come up with a reply to that, but when she did it was totally worth it.

"Because it's immoral," Elsa answered with a wink of her own. "And I don't like sharing."

Anna nearly choked on her toast.

The next five minutes were spent in relative silence, Anna attempting to enjoy the dubious merits of her sister's attempts at cooking. She had put the effort in to do this, and for Elsa to take the initiative with something like this—Anna knew it had to be important to her. So she ate, all the while quietly promising herself that she'd show Elsa how to do this properly one day. Not burning the toast would be step one. Well, the orange juice probably hadn't been Elsa's fault—Kjellson's kids could be right terrors sometimes.

That was it, Anna realised. The first thing she could do today. Elsa had said it was her day after all. But only after they'd studied the laws of succession would Anna admit to her sister why they were there.

"You said it was a day just for me, right?"

"Absolutely Anna."

"Then we're going to the library."

Elsa's eyes widened in surprise. That was the last place she'd expected Anna to go. There had to be something else going on. Was she worried about something? Had she and Kristoff—no, it was far too soon. Was Anna trying to accommodate Elsa on her own special day? That was when Elsa noticed the smirk on her sister's lips.

"You can braid my hair if you want," Anna called out, rifling through the wardrobe—she'd taken the time to 'share' a few items of clothing with her sister. "But I'm still not telling you why."

"Ah, our princess sinister has a mysterious streak," Elsa affected a slight accent as she spoke. Anna laughed happily, extracting a dress from the wardrobe. "And an apparent fondness for her sister's clothing."

"You never wear it," Anna accused her sister. "Some of these dresses deserve a second chance. Except that pink—thing—in there."

"I tried to get rid of it once," Elsa whispered, melodramatically looking left and right. "But it came back. Cleaner. And pinker."

"No."

"So I tried again. This time it came back with _pleats_."

"That can't be true, can it?" Anna asked, taking a look inside the wardrobe.

"The third time it came back with lace. And tulle. And chiffon."

Anna looked at her sister skeptically. This sounded more like one of her own stories. She scratched her head absently. It _was_ one of her stories. The one about the haunted necklace. Elsa had just changed it to a dress. Anna smiled. That was good for Elsa.

"You almost had me there," Anna admitted, grinning. "But the chiffon was too much. Also, I think you're supposed to tell stories like that around a camp-fire. That's how it's done in the books."

"Speaking of books…"

"Not so fast there Elsa. You have to braid my hair first," Anna sat in front of her sister, passing her the brush and the ribbons. She knew it was going to take a little while to get all those curls out. At least this morning she could have Elsa do it instead of Gerda. It would be a nice change. And it was. Elsa's touch was so soft, so delicate, so—sensuous, Anna finally admitted to herself. She couldn't help having some feelings for Elsa, even after—or had it been before?

It was what it was. Anna felt a sort of childish infatuation for her sister. More admiration and gratefulness than any kind of lust. Elsa had been returned to her, and she'd opened up at long last and while they'd paid a high price for that openness Anna wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world. But Anna knew how Elsa saw it too—at least, she thought she had a good idea of how her sister saw her. It was all because of what they'd shared, what they'd experienced together. Surviving Hans's betrayal and his actions on the ice had been a traumatic experience in many ways. The sisters had helped each other through it. But to Elsa it was more, because Anna knew with absolute certainty—and no small amount of sadness—that no one else had ever supported Elsa that way. It only made sense she would have feelings for Anna.

What didn't make sense was that sometimes Anna wanted to reciprocate those feelings. Not just the sisterly love she always showed, but something a little… more. She knew exactly where she stood with Kristoff. She knew what she wanted, where her desires lay. But thinking about Elsa just left her confused. It would be nice if Elsa fell for one of the men she now knew, but Anna felt a strange pang of jealousy at the thought of Hank or Søren—or anyone else for that matter—getting her sister's attention.

"So, why _do_ you want to go to the library?"

Anna turned, suddenly realizing how lost in thought she'd been. That was really strange for her. Unless she'd just been speaking exactly what was on her mind. Anna blushed furiously at the thought, and Elsa looked at her strangely.

"Is everything okay Anna?"

"I was just thinking about you," honest enough. "And me. Together."

Damn.

Elsa stopped moving. That was not a good sign. Anna began speaking rapidly. "I mean, not like that—but kinda like that—it was weird and I was hoping you'd fall for someone and then I thought I'd be jealous and I asked why I'd be jealous and then… umm, yeah, I got kinda confused and now I'm rambling but I don't know what to say when you freeze like th—wrong words, wrong words, sorry, I—"

Placing a hand against Anna's arm, Elsa spoke. "It's alright Anna. I understand. Well, I don't understand my feelings about it properly, but I understand why you'd be just as confused."

There was a long pause, Anna gathered her thoughts while Elsa continued trying to ascertain why her sister wanted to spend the morning in the library.

"So, again, why the library?"

"I need to study something about our old laws. The laws of succession and inheritance."

Anna saw the flash of recognition on her sister's face. She knew. Elsa _knew_. Well, she had to be sharp to be queen after all. "You said as soon as I had a child, I'd be queen. I'm going to show you how wrong you are."

"Why?"

"Because despite what you think of yourself, you _deserve_ to be the queen."

"Why are you so _nice_ to me?" Elsa shook her hands in the air, little spirals of frost forming around them. "You know I don't deserve any of this. I don't even deserve _you_. This is meant to be your day and you're going spend it on… on…"

Elsa couldn't finish. It was impossible. Anna saw the look in her eyes, the unshed tears she was always hiding.

"You don't get it, do you?" Anna knelt down to look her sister in her pale blue eyes. "Knowing you makes me feel alive. Seeing you happy makes me happy. Seeing you in pain hurts me. Seeing you cry makes we want to bundle you up in a big warm hug. But mostly I want to see you be happy. I mean really, properly happy. Like Sven finding a full sack of carrots happy. Olaf happy."

"Why?"

"Because you had a crappy childhood, okay. So did I. But it wasn't your fault. Mama and Papa really tried their best," Anna clenched her fist in repressed anger. "But they didn't know anything about your magic. You didn't know anything about it. They didn't even think about trying to study it—actually, I can't believe you didn't think of that to be honest. I get it, you were afraid, but you must have known something about your powers, right?"

Anna saw the look on her sister's face. The fear, the isolation, the sheer helplessness. This was probably exactly the wrong thing to be talking about right now, but Anna couldn't think of anything else to say. Except…

"Just remember, no matter what, I'll always love you Elsa."

Elsa leaned forward, reaching out to hug her sister. "You'll never know how much that really means to me Anna. And I love you too, with all of my broken little heart."

"Princess Anna," Kai greeted the sisters as they entered the library. He bowed gently upon seeing the queen. "Queen Elsa. Such a pleasure to see both of you here this morning. I was just tidying up after last night—Bishop Gudbrand left this for you."

Elsa took the proffered note. Anna watched as she unfolded it, hands trembling. Was she afraid of the Bishop? Was this what the shouting had been about yesterday afternoon. The reason Elsa couldn't sleep. The queen let out a surprised gasp, nearly dropping the note. Anna leaned over to try and get a better look. She couldn't read the note, but she saw what had made her sister gasp like that.

It was a small silver chain, and on the end of that chain was a cross. Such a simple symbol. Anna didn't quite understand, but she reached down to pick up the necklace, intending to help Elsa put it on. She was forgetting the fact she would need two hands to open the clasp and join the ends properly. She felt Elsa lay a hand gently on her arm before she could move the necklace any further.

"Thank you Anna, but you might not be so handy at this," Elsa smiled, taking the necklace, then fixing it at the back of her neck with surprising deftness.

"Really?" Anna asked, not sure if the joke had been deliberate.

"I thought I was supposed to be giving you a _hand,_ looking through these books."

Definitely deliberate. Elsa was going to be in for it later. Anna attempted to rub her hands together in glee, then settled for gently itching at her bandage. There was some research she needed to continue when Elsa was elsewhere. Research Kai had been quietly helping her with. Research about prosthetics, and specific kinds of injuries. Like the kind of injury her sister suffered from. Anna had seen the way both Olaf and Marshmallow moved. She had seen the complexity of Elsa's icy creations. The chandelier in the ice palace was a brilliant example. If she could somehow convince—at that point Anna realized she already had the power. She gave it to me this morning, Anna smiled at the thought. But I'm going to need a few more books.

Elsa was now poring over a large tome that contained the laws of succession for Arendelle, as well as the list of who had inherited the throne in the past, and why. Anna never saw her tuck the Bishop's note down the side of her chair, just out of sight. Nor would she ever realize what it meant. But Elsa did. It meant a second chance. It had said only this: _An act of contrition, such that you may be safe while you fight the darkness around you._

* * *

**AN:** Well, I thought it would be fun to see how the sisters might spend a whole day together, just as sisters, nothing else. No roles. No titles. Just each other.


	23. Brighter than the Sun

Anna's plan had been brilliant. Spectacularly brilliant by her standards. That was why she was apologizing profusely as Elsa lay in a tangled heap on the icy courtyard. It was also why Elsa's icy chair lay in ruins. Finally, it was the reason Anna was currently being crushed by her sister. Anna sighed, gently rolling her sister onto the ice. It might have been a good plan if she'd remembered a few things about moving on the ice. Or to watch where she was going when she showed off by skating backwards—right into Elsa, the bench, and finally the fountain. Well, they'd bounced off the fountain, but Elsa's chair was ruined by the impact.

"Wait," Anna called out, seeing Elsa starting to create a new chair. "Please, there's something I want to try."

Elsa let the new chair fade, then used her arms to prop herself up in a sitting position. "What is it Anna?"

"Well, really, it's something you should try. Should have tried a long time ago."

"Why are you being so cryptic all of a sudden?"

Anna ignored the question. She was tracing out two small rectangles on the ice. "Elsa, can you make like a line or a marker or something. These boxes, same size."

"I have no idea what you're going for here," Elsa replied evenly, using her magic to trace dark lines in the ice.

"Right, and over here, big and shiny, like a mirror—you can make mirrors, right?"

"Of ice, yes—wait, why do we need a mirror?"

"Because of something I need to show you. There's something you really need to do—but I know you can't do it alone, so I'm helping you out."

"This is meant to be _your_ day Anna, why aren't you spending it doing things _you_ like?"

"This _is_ something I like, you dummy. Why else would I be doing it?" Anna enjoyed watching her sister's face at that one. Seeing the pieces fall into place in Elsa's mind like a perfect little puzzle. She would never suspect Anna of having ulterior motives. That's why Anna knew this little scheme would work. Elsa finally smiled, looking a little sad.

"Anyway, two shapes, like this," Anna quickly sketched a tall triangle in mid-air. She added a U shape to the top of it. "And one of those on top."

"A-frames?" Elsa asked, skeptical. "How big?"

"About shoulder height," Anna held her hand in front of her right shoulder, palm down. "About shoulder width apart."

Anna saw something flash behind Elsa's eyes. When she spoke she sounded exasperated. "No, Anna. I can't do it. It's impossible. I already told you I tried using my magic for that. It just won't work. You saw how badly it went last time."

"So you ended up on the floor, so what?" Anna looked intently at her sister. "You have to try. You have to keep trying. Please."

"No."

Elsa was stubborn sometimes, Anna knew that. Sometimes she seemed to be so set in her ways it was like talking to a wall—or a locked door. Anna also knew how much her sister needed something like this. That's why she was willing to spend until lunch time trying to get it right. Longer, in fact, if need be. She just needed a way to convince Elsa it would work. To show her sister it was possible. But how—it was like playing a really hard game. How do you get someone to play a game like that? Anna questioned herself. You show them how it works!

"It's okay Elsa," Anna took a deep breath. "You don't have to; but—_but_—if you don't, you have to do it for me."

Elsa gave her sister a quizzical look. Anna stared back evenly.

"I mean, what I was gonna do for you—get you to do I mean—you gotta do it for me instead. You'll be using your magic. On me. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure about this?" Elsa sounded anything but sure to Anna, although she seemed willing to try out this crazy plan.

Anna stood directly in front of Elsa. "Can you make some snow around me—I'm about to fall over a lot."

"Then you probably shouldn't be doing this. Don't you remember what the physician said?"

"Of course I do—but this is more important," large piles of snow covered the ground around Anna. "Thanks."

Anna took her older sister's right hand, then gently guided it to her left thigh. She did the same for Elsa's left hand, placing it upon her right thigh. She looked Elsa in the eye, took a breath, then asked her sister to do something she knew she wouldn't like.

"Freeze my legs."

"No!"

"Elsa, I _have_ to show you this—you won't believe it's possible otherwise. Just… a little ice, so I can't move them."

"No. I don't want to hurt you."

Anna could see the tears building behind Elsa's eyes. She could tell Elsa didn't want to let her down, but she saw the greater fear behind those tears. Elsa was still terrified of hurting her. "It's okay Elsa. I won't let you hurt me. This is _my_ choice. Just… do it like you froze my arm."

"I–I can't."

Snow fell over the courtyard before Anna saw the tears. She knelt down to wrap her sister in the warmest hug she could deliver. She felt Elsa shiver against her. Maybe she'd been going about this all wrong. Maybe she needed to explain her motive first, then her plan of action. Well, I can still salvage this, Anna smiled brightly. I'll just tell her what I wanted.

"Why would you ask me to do something like that?" Elsa asked a few minutes later, clearing most of the snowfall.

"Because you're not the only one who can use a library, okay."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means—okay, fine. I've been asking Kai for help to look up stuff about anatomy. Ever since I mentioned your la—"

"Don't say it," Elsa held up a warning finger, almost falling over as she did so.

"—anyway, I started to wonder about anatomy and prosthetics. Hey, did you know this German guy in the 1500's had a fake arm with movable fingers? It could hold a pen, or a sword, or like whatever and it was totally awesome and I want one like that and where was I—oh, yeah, studying anatomy and stuff, and learning about muscles and tendons and bones and it was really fascinating and you look a little pale are you okay?"

Elsa nodded shakily.

"So I kept reading, and I read a few books about magic—and they're really, really confusing and none of them really help with ice powers and—yeah, anyway I thought about how you were trying to stand with your magic before, and you keep saying it's impossible—and don't interrupt it's rude—but it's not and I know how to make it work but you probably won't like it because it's going to look ridiculous, and there might be touching involved—but I think you might like that too much—and anyway Kai showed me some really great books and he's great at researching things and I guess you already knew that, but I swear I'd've been stuck in that room for weeks if it wasn't for him.

"Oh, oh, and he showed me some cool stuff about engineering and I didn't really understand a lot of it, but then he showed me be some more anatomy stuff and it made sense because it was how the body moves and it's really, really simple and I want to see you move again but I don't know if your magic will work but I want you try, okay? Try it for me?"

"Anna," Elsa let out a heavy sigh, dragging her legs closer and building a backrest from ice. "Please… slow down."

"Wait, what?" Anna cocked her head, looking at her sister. "Am I talking too fast or something?"

"You are," Elsa nodded, smiling sadly. "But I heard that last part. I'm sorry, but I don't want to try."

"Why. What are you so afraid of?" Anna asked in all seriousness, forgetting what had happened last time she asked that question.

Anna could only watch helplessly as Elsa hugged her arms, bowing her head. What could be so bad about trying to stand on her own two feet again. What was so scary that Elsa couldn't even try to do that. Was it because they were in the courtyard?

"Wait, are you afraid someone might see you falling over? Is that it?"

"Yes—No. I don't _know!_"

Sitting down in front of her sister, Anna placed her hand on Elsa's shoulder and bowed her head. Their foreheads were nearly touching, but neither sister looked up. Anna didn't want to see the pain in Elsa's eyes. She didn't want Elsa to see the disappointment in hers.

"It's okay if you don't want to try today," Anna spoke softly, but she couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice. "But I'm not giving up on this, okay? I'm not giving up on you."

Anna felt her sister drag her closer, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. She could feel Elsa's hair brushing against her cheek. She could hear the slight hitch in her breath. She could feel the silent tears that shook her sister's body. She could hear Elsa mumble something. It wasn't really words. Elsa coughed and tried again.

"I don't deserve you."

Hatching a very different plan, Anna scooped up a handful of snow. Her gaze tracked left and right to make sure the courtyard was clear. Then she dropped the snow down the back of Elsa's dress. The shock was enough to make her sister stop traveling down that dark path. It was also more than enough reason for Elsa to push her away—just to arm's length.

"You!" Elsa held out an accusatory finger. "You… you…"

"I what?" Anna asked innocently, scooting a little further from her sister. She winked and gave Elsa an impish grin. "Did I do something… wrong?"

"You'll pay for that," Elsa got out finally.

"Really?" Anna called out over her shoulder, running for the nearest bench to use as cover. "What makes you so sure?"

The red haired princess of Arendelle regretted asking that a moment later when a foot of snow landed on top of her. Sometimes it paid to remember little things—like the fact Elsa didn't need to see to be able to use her magic. Or that a foot of snow was really quite heavy when it hit you all at once. Anna smiled, a little chagrined, sitting up in the snow.

"You know that's unfair. I can't do magic like that."

"Then throw something—it's not like I can run away."

So Anna did just that, taking her sister's advice and starting to pelt her with snowballs. Elsa built a little wall of snow around herself, blocking some of the icy barrage. Anna tried to outflank her sister, but found that the wall went all the way around. And that Elsa could throw homing snowballs. Another unfair advantage. Especially considering she could throw two snowballs for every one Anna made. But the younger of the sisters had her own advantages, chief among them that she was both mobile, and highly unpredictable.

That was why her sneak attack worked. Creeping up from behind her sister, then vaulting the little wall, she tackled Elsa. Both of them crashed through the far wall, snow flying everywhere. Elsa laughed in delight, and Anna exulted in the sound. How long had it been since she'd last heard her sister make a sound that pure and joyous? Lying in the snow, her arm around Elsa's shoulder, Anna smiled while they both watched the clouds overhead. There weren't many, but it was enough to keep the sky interesting.

"And don't think you've got out of that either," Anna said, after waiting what felt like hours.

"Out of what?" Elsa asked, turning to look at her sister.

"You know, learning to stand up again. I _know_ there's a way Elsa. There has to be. I'm not giving up on this."

"And if there isn't a way?"

"There is," Anna spoke firmly, her conviction surprising even her. Elsa said nothing. If Anna was sure, she was sure.

On the outskirts of town Justicar Kristoffersen had found something very disturbing. Ansa had brought it to his attention. It wasn't related to the thefts they were currently investigating, but it was related to another investigation—more a search, of sorts—being managed by Bishop Gudbrand. He had mentioned something similar during the first council meeting. Kristoffersen remembered the queen's face at hearing that revelation. The way she had not quite casually enough explained she hadn't been attacked because her image in public kept her safe. But this… this was a bad sign for everyone. Gerhardt was right in suggesting the queen needed a bodyguard. Upon seeing this Justicar Kristoffersen was going to insist on it next time he saw the queen.

He turned to look back within the shed. Logs and tinder, perfectly reasonable, even this time of year. It was often easier to stock up on firewood in the summer months after all. But that wasn't the suspicious part. It was the single large log. The rope. The wig, long and powdered, and completely unmistakeable for what it was meant to be. The Justicar let out the breath he had been holding. There were three likely scenarios here.

One: Bishop Gudbrand was wrong. He suspected the troublemakers who'd had the effigy had already fled Arendelle. To return to the same place was stupid, but Justicar Kristoffersen had met criminals with a surprising lack of common sense before. That was often what caused them to get caught in the first place.

Two: The Bishop could have been lying. Kristoffersen highly doubted that. There was nary an impure or impolite bone in the Bishop's entire body. For him to lie about—No, Kristoffersen decided quickly, he wouldn't lie. The man can't lie. He's just like that. He can try and hide it from us all he wants, but he's probably the most honest man on the whole damn council. Him and Gerhardt.

Three: The final theory deeply concerned Justicar Kristoffersen. Because if it was true, then it meant the unrest was spreading. It meant there were people who were scared enough of the queen's power to wish for her death. Or, as the Bishop had said, they might be misguided, thinking of the queen as the embodiment of evil. That they were willing to go to such lengths to try and hide their activities was a concern in and of itself. That they were desperate enough to plan something like this in the first place was the real threat.

"Find out who owns this land," Kristoffersen turned to Ansa, the young woman standing slightly behind him. "Find out who has access to that shed. Bring the others in, we're going to need their talents."

"Sir," Ansa made no special movement, just answered her superior and continued investigating the door and the latch. A strange thought was forming at the back of her mind. She studied the marks on the latch, and they seemed utterly normal. A few scratches here and there, but the door probably banged in the wind. It would scrape slightly when the key was turned anyway. It was something else. Something foreign. Justicar Kristoffersen might well have already thought of it, but Ansa spoke anyway. It would be better to learn he had already thought of it than to deny the possibility he hadn't.

"Sir, what if whoever's doing this is not from Arendelle?"

Kristoffersen stopped mid-stride. Why hadn't he thought of that? Because he'd been following the same line of thinking as Gudbrand, probably. Kristoffersen admonished himself. Just because the good Bishop thought this was a domestic—or vaguely religious—issue did not mean it actually was. That added another wrinkle. Just who had enough dislike for Arendelle to try something like this, to try and topple their queen? Or were they only and specifically targeting queen Elsa herself? Justicar Kristoffersen cursed inwardly. There were no good answers.

* * *

**AN:** Some Elsanna fluff and feels. But now I have to make good on promises and events set up earlier in the story. Shall we begin?


	24. Light of my Life

"You're insane," Elsa admonished her sister, giggling as she spoke. "It's just—"

"What?" Anna asked innocently, still tickling her sister's ribs. "Fair?"

"Just because I touched you?"

"And the rest. You still haven't told me why I should stop."

"I already did."

"Oh come on, no one's going to see us here."

"Someone might hear us," Elsa hissed.

Anna kept tickling her sister for another few seconds. Then, still pinning her sister to the floor, sitting across her legs, the red haired princess launched into a long list of things they could do with anyone they caught eavesdropping. Most of it involved some surprisingly creative violence, and large persian rugs. Elsa could hardly believe her sister would entertain such thoughts.

"…and then we drop the carpet off a bridge," Anna concluded, a massive grin making her face glow. Elsa's jaw dropped.

"An-na," Elsa took a moment to collect her thoughts before suddenly dragging her sister down on top of her. "You cannot be serious."

"Of course I'm not—do you know how heavy a body wrapped up in that kind of carpet would be?"

"You are… you're…"

"A very bad girl?" Anna smiled, finally rolling away from Elsa. "Are you going to punish me?"

The younger of Arendelle's royal siblings hid under a large oaken table. Elsa turned her head sideways to see her clinging to the table.

"I should, but I can't," Elsa laughed, reaching out for her sister. "Okay, I admit it. That _was_ fun."

"See, I told you I'd win. I'm never wrong—ow!" Anna had just been about to rise in triumph when her head smacked against the bottom of the table. She stared up at the table, a look of utter betrayal crossing her features. "Who put that there?"

"I have no idea," Elsa lied. "But we're going to need a large rug."

Anna laughed. Elsa looked around the council chamber. Despite her fears there was only a tiny amount of snow dusting the table and chairs, and built up in the corners of the room. Anna had been right, their little 'war' had hurt no one. It had also been highly entertaining, spanning nearly half of the second floor of the castle. Kai and Gerda were mysteriously absent from the whole floor during the entire affair. Thinking of people who were absent…

"Didn't you say Kristoff would be here about now?"

"He should be. Hopefully staying in the library hasn't bored him too much."

"Wait, you made him stay in the library?"

"So?" Anna sounded almost petulant. "It's my castle too."

"No, no, not that. I meant to ask if you had anything planed to entertain him while he was there?"

"Oh, I just thought he could read the books or something."

Slowly working herself into a sitting position, Elsa looked skeptically at her sister.

"I really didn't have time to plan anything else, okay?" Anna quickly explained. "I figured he'd be somewhere safe, easy to find, and not too bored."

"You should go to him," Elsa smiled warmly. "You both deserve a little time together. You've already spent far too much of your day on me."

"But I don't wanna stop spending time with you, Elsa. Today has been like totally awesome, and I've got so many ideas and just wait until later I've got something amazing and really, really special we can do together and—Elsa?"

"Kristoff is your guest," Elsa explained patiently. "You invited him here. As host, it is your duty to entertain him for an appropriate length of time to make his visit worthwhile."

"I thought you said you weren't going to do anything queen-y today?"

"Just think of it as some friendly advice," Elsa made a shooing gesture. "Now go. Have fun with someone that isn't me."

As Anna finally left, Elsa added silently: Have fun with someone that actually deserves you.

Conjuring a chair of ice, Elsa began to think about what she could do while her sister was preoccupied with Kristoff. A great many things came to mind. Most of them impractical due to time constraints. She absently fingered the silver cross that now hung around her neck. It had been a long time since she'd prayed for anything. Said a real, truthful prayer. After hurting Anna she had been afraid of invoking the wrath of the Divine. As her powers grew the fear changed to one of being ignored. Her prayers had stopped soon afterwards. Then, after the death of their parents, it felt as if the Divine had simply abandoned her.

She had, quite simply, lost her faith in the Divine. He had never done anything for her. Nothing Elsa could notice. He had not saved Anna. He had not taken her powers away. And no matter how much she had pleaded with him after the storm, he had not brought her parents back. If the Divine wanted to abandon her, fine. She could turn away just as easily. But she had not considered that he might still be watching. That he might take pity on her in her darkest moment. To give life to Olaf.

Elsa kept running Bishop Gudbrand's theory through her mind. There was most definitely an element of truth in there. The problem was, she wasn't sure if that same truth applied to Marshmallow. She'd created that monster quite deliberately. It had been her powers, and only her powers. But now another thought occurred to her. The Divine was not the only one that could give life to certain creatures. Elsa shuddered. What if Marshmallow isn't mine? What if I didn't animate him? That would make him a… Thoughts crashed into each other in Elsa's head, ending with one she fervently prayed was untrue. That means I summoned a _demon_.

I have to find the Bishop. Elsa was already panicking. This is bad. Very, very bad. Elsa sped through the castle, intending to find the Bishop somewhere in town. The Bishop's reaction didn't matter this time. If Marshmallow was a demon, then he wouldn't have been killed. Could not have been killed by the soldiers assaulting her palace. Which meant Elsa would need help stopping him. He would have sought out whoever summoned him, or possibly gone on a destructive rampage. Elsa blinked, stopping in the middle of the grand hall. It had been more than two weeks. Surely she would have heard _something_ if that theory was true.

If that theory was untrue however, it meant another one was not. Namely, the fact Elsa could create life. No one should have that power, Elsa thought sadly. Especially not me. Elsa turned her chair around, heading deeper into the castle. She had no idea who to talk to. She didn't even know if she really wanted to talk about what she'd just discovered. What she really wanted was someone to tell her everything was going to be alright. The problem was that that someone was currently in the library, talking with her boyfriend.

"That really is a lot of books," Kristoff's gaze took in the whole library as Anna entered. He was sitting at a reading desk with single book in front of him. "And there's not many with pictures."

"Sorry," Anna apologized, wincing slightly. "I just didn't have a lot of time to think this through because today's been totally awesome and I've been having fun all over the castle with Elsa and she made me breakfast in bed and it was kinda terrible but it's amazing because she said today was all about me and—"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Kristoff held up his hands and made a gentle halting gesture. "You know when you're talking that fast I can't understand everything."

"Oh, yeah. I just got so excited. Anyway, it all started when Elsa made me breakfast in bed—but she can't really cook—but it was nice because she made it. Then she told me today she wasn't going to be the queen. Just for today. So there's no titles or anything, it's just us, like sisters. Kind of like what I always wanted. Then we went to the library so I could prove she was wrong about something—because she kept saying if I ever had a baby, and I want one one day, that I'd be the queen right away—but she was wrong. She would have to abdicate"—Anna worked hard to get the unfamiliar word right—"in favour of my child. And that still wouldn't make me queen. Unless… unless Elsa died before my baby came of age. But I don't want to be queen. I'd mess it up so badly."

Kristoff gave the princess a lop-sided grin. "No you wouldn't. You can do anything if you just set your mind to it. You managed to drag me up the north mountain on some fool's errand after all. You managed to stop an eternal winter. You even managed to save Elsa's life. Oh, and you knocked out a wolf with my lute, let's not forget that."

Anna giggled, her hand over her mouth. She had honestly forgotten about the lute. "You… thank you."

Kristoff was completely unprepared for Anna to lean over and kiss him firmly on the lips. She pulled away after a few delicious seconds.

"Umm… you're welcome?" Kristoff tried to collect his thoughts. Anna laughed lightly, then sat on the edge of the desk. She said nothing, just held his gaze for several long seconds. There were things they both wanted to do. To each other. With each other. Although now was not the time, both of them could see the desire burning behind the other's eyes. One day. One day soon they promised themselves.

"So princess feistypants, can I ask about what appears to have been a blizzard on the second floor?"

"We had a snowball war!" Anna nearly leapt off the desk with excitement. "I won."

"And how many times did you change the rules?"

"There are no rules in a real snowball war," Anna's eyes darted left and right. "And Elsa cheats anyway. She can throw homing snowballs and make the floor all slippery with ice and then there was the door she filled with snow and… and… well I managed to trap her in there, and then it was time to storm the council chamber. Hand to hand combat with snowballs."

"You said you won?" Kristoff queried, teasing. "Wait, are you telling me you beat up your disabled sister?"

"No. I won fair and square. Although Elsa's _chair_ might have had a minor accident that let me properly pin her and when I was tickling her… oh, I love the way she laughs when she's happy, Kristoff. I'd do anything to hear that—is that weird?"

"Nah," Kristoff brushed it off. "Can't be any weirder than talking with Sven."

Anna smiled. "So Elsa said I could spend the afternoon with you if I really wanted. I know she wanted to spend all of today with me, but she didn't know we made plans. Wait, can we even call them plans?—Anyway, I mean, I'd really, really like to spend more time with you—but then Elsa gave me a whole day to just have her as well. And I've got no idea what I'm doing with either of you and I just want to not be confused about everything and what about her la—or your—wait, what am I saying?"

"You're rambling again feistypants. Just take a deep breath."

"Okay, okay," Anna spread her hands, taking a deep breath as advised. "I like you. I like her. I mean, not exactly in the same way, but—umm, yeah. I really don't know who I should be spending the afternoon with."

"Elsa," Kristoff said simply. "I told you, I'd never make you choose between her or me. I meant it."

"I love you," Anna wrapped her arm around Kristoff's shoulders. "I really do, my valiant and pungent reindeer king."

"If you really did, you'd stop calling me that. Princess feistypants" Kristoff teased good-naturedly.

"Like you're any better," Anna teased him right back, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Another day?"

"Sure. You know how to find me."

"Not really."

"You'll figure it out," Kristoff winked, placing a scrap of paper on the table as he left.

Anna looked at the scrap, torn from the edge of the top sheet of paper on the reading table. The ink splotches and messy handwriting were even worse than her own attempts at writing by hand. She wouldn't even begin to consider calligraphy—unless it was Elsa doing it. The note gave directions to a building somewhere in town. Strykejern Hus. She could find that later. Right now it was time to find Elsa again.

Elsa was in her room, concentrating on not icing everything over. To have discovered she had the power to give life to her icy creations was quite a shock. She wanted to make sure it was true—but she was afraid of the answer. To use the breath of life just to confirm it was truly hers seemed incredibly wasteful. It would mean another snowman. Who might be like Olaf. Or who might be like Marshmallow. And if she couldn't use the breath of life—well, that just raised even more questions. Questions she didn't want answers to. Questions she didn't even want to ask.

The polite knock at her door lifted Elsa from her dark reverie. "Your majesty, are you feeling alright?"

It was Kai. Elsa knew his voice. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door. Kai stood there attentively, hands clasped behind his back, the perfect picture of a proper royal servant. Elsa briefly considered all the ways in which she could answer the question he had just asked. She settled on the truth. Well, most of it.

"I'm not alright Kai. I keep thinking about what I left on the north mountain."

"Your palace, queen Elsa?"

"No, Kai. Something _else_."

"You have not mentioned anything before. Why is it suddenly so important—is it dangerous?"

"In a way. You know of Olaf, how he came to be?"

"I will not pretend to know how, your majesty. Although I had assumed it had something to do with your powers. That is all I will say on the matter."

"Well, what I left on the north mountain—let's just say Olaf has a brother, of sorts. Something of a brute. Marshma—he was meant to protect me. Somehow those Weaseltown goons got past him. I don't think he survived the siege."

"I am honestly not sure what to make of that story, your majesty. Have you considered talking with the Bishop?"

"No. I mean, maybe I should. Last time we talked we talked about Olaf. I'll be the first to admit that neither of us handled that particularly well. He scared me enough to make angry, Kai. I couldn't help. I know my magic scared him. I still hope he changed his mind because I told him the honest truth, not because I scared him into doing so."

"Bishop Gudbrand is a good man," Kai defended. "You should really talk with him about this, I really don't know what you're trying to ask. Although I do get the feeling it's vaguely spiritual. Perhaps something on the nature of the soul, and you fear for your creation—creations?"

"I don't really know what I'm asking either Kai. Maybe I just want to make sure I'm not a monster."

Kai squinted, looking down at Elsa's chest. Elsa suddenly felt very self-conscious. Kai held out a silver cross on a knotted cord from beneath his shirt. "You wear a crucifix too?"

"It's a—recent development," Elsa admitted. Kai smiled, once more hiding his cross under his shirt.

"Whatever you may have done, you are not a monster. That you could think such a thing of yourself is disturbing, but it shows that no matter what, you are able to recognize your true nature. If you feel you have something to atone for, queen Elsa, then I should say your recent actions make for a true act of contrition. I have seen how deeply you care for your sister—and I recall those conversation we had long ago. As I once said, she could never hate you—that was your own fear. Nothing else."

Elsa smiled, a little awkward. Kai was right. It had been a very time long since they'd last had a talk like this. It had been—Elsa thought back, trying to remember when it had been. A year, roughly, since her parents had died. That was the last time she had really talked to anyone. Actually held a proper conversation, not just perfunctory greetings or trying prepare for the eventual pressures of ruling a kingdom. She'd kept to herself for so long. Shut everyone out. It was like she'd slammed doors in all of their faces. But here was Kai, and after metaphorically knocking, that door had been opened again and she'd been greeted with open arms. She still didn't understand how people could be so forgiving, it made her feel quite melancholy.

"I should find Anna," Elsa smiled softly. "Thank you for talking with me Kai."

"You are most welcome, your majesty. Also, I do believe princess Anna is most likely searching for you now as well. I witnessed master Bjorgman leaving not long ago."

"_There_ you are!" Anna's voice echoed down the second floor hallway. "I've been all over the castle looking for you. I should have known you'd be here."

Kai bowed and left as bounded down the hall towards the door.

"I just needed a little time to myself," Elsa looked up at her sister, fear shading her eyes. She was still afraid of how Anna would react to that statement, but she wasn't going to lie. Not anymore. At least, not to Anna.

"It's okay Elsa," Anna placed a hand on her sister's shoulder and stared longingly into her bright blue eyes. "I know it's hard for people to keep up with me and to follow my conversations sometimes and lots of other stuff and I'm trying to say something but I lost my train of thought. Hey, how about we spend a couple of days in your ice palace, just you and me?"

"Wait, what?"

"I mean, it might be difficult getting there, but I think you'd still be able to ride a horse—wait, _can_ you ride a horse? Anyway, I'll show you how. Just you and me, all alone for a couple of days. I'm sure Arendelle can survive just two days without you trying to run everything. I mean it's not like the whole place could burn to… the… nevermind. We'll go up there and it'll be just us and it'll be totally amazing and can you imagine it? I'd have you for _two whole days_."

"I–I don't know what I'd do," Elsa finally spoke. "I mean, two days. And what about food, blankets, entertainment and—"

"We can bring the food with us silly. And you seriously think _I_ won't be entertainment enough for you," Anna watched as a blush crept across Elsa's face. "Oh, no. No—naughty. I did _not_ mean it like that. Okay, maybe I did, a little bit. I can't help it. I'm sorry. I know it's mean to tease people like that but… Elsa, I only do it because I love you."

"I know Anna, I know," Elsa smiled up at her sister, reaching out for a hug. "I just don't want to ever force you into doing anything. I mean, if you really wanted to, sure; but if you were only doing it because you were afraid I'd stop loving you or something—I–I–well I wouldn't be able to live with myself and what am I saying. Anna?

Anna blinked several times, her mind running those words forwards and backwards and in several other directions besides. It took her a little time to process what was actually being said versus the words Elsa had just spoken.

"Okay. Now I'm just really confused."

"Can we–can we just let it go. For now?" Elsa pleaded quietly.

"Okay," Anna nodded. "But is it okay to talk about it later—like probably not today, I mean another day, or in the evening or the bath or something like that. I mean just to make sure you aren't trying to hide from it?"

"Later," Elsa nodded slowly. "Just… later."

"So we've got lots of stuff to talk about later, like how you're gonna choose between Hank or Søren, and lad—okay, I won't say it—and now this too. Oh, but I've got something really special planned for tonight, but we really, really need to get going soon."

"Why do we need to leave?"

"Because I found it in the forest, a long time ago. It was my little secret. Well, sort of. I keep seeing it in my dreams. But they're not like normal dreams, it's like something you can't quite remember—you know, when you try to think of a word and it just won't come to you? Yeah, it's totally like that. Anyway, something else Kai helped with was how to read maps—I figured it would be useful seeing how lost I got last time I went into the forest alone. So I discovered this little marker, and the place is real, and you totally gotta see it Elsa. It's amazing. But at night. It has to be at night."

"What about getting back to the castle?" Elsa was rightly concerned that this plan would see them both out of the castle for the entire night.

"Umm, well, I hadn't really thought that far ahead. I just figured we could walk back."

"We probably won't be back until midnight then."

"I'm not afraid, Elsa. Your magic can protect us."

Elsa took Anna's hand in her own. "Just this once then, princess feistypants. Because you insist."

In the chapel's anteroom Justicar Hanne Kristoffersen was in deep discussion with Bishop Clarence Gudbrand over what he'd found earlier that day. He outlined his primary theories clearly and concisely; that either the Bishop was wrong, or the corruption was spreading. He also related Ansa's theory about foreign interests. Bishop Gudbrand took this in without saying a word. He barely moved the entire conversation, except to jot notes in his ledger—just as Kristoffersen was doing.

"This is incredibly troubling news, Hanne. Especially in light of what the queen revealed to me yesterday. I will not say what, but I will say that if men like these ever, _ever_ learned of it, there would be no stopping them. I do not like to consider what fanatics are capable of. Or even some of our more, shall we say, over-zealous believers. It was always a risk, old friend. You know best among us that everyone harboured suspicions about the queen's troubles all those years. We were well prepared to deal with legal consequences, even some public unrest.

"We were not, however, ready for the religious repercussions that might follow. I myself was not immune to such reactionary thinking when she first revealed the full extent of her powers to me. I am not proud to admit that fact, but I was caught completely off guard. Although I still question how I might have had reacted had I been forewarned. The point is moot now. We quite clearly have much bigger problems. Any one of your theories could be true. Although I cannot see the hand of outside influence in this matter, it would be wise not to discount it. Arendelle is small enough that it has few enemies—as Gerhardt is fond of telling us—but that does not mean our enemies—or their ambitions—are just as small."

"What of the notion of employing a bodyguard for the queen?"

"I have given her what amounts to a shield of faith, but you are right in suggesting that something a little more tangible would go a long way to solving our problems. Of course, queen Elsa is unlikely to trust anyone the council chooses simply because she knows Gerhardt will have had a hand in the selection process."

"I had some thoughts about that myself, Clarence" Kristoffersen admitted. "I got the distinct impression that was only one of several reasons she would refuse a council-selected guard. I was racking my brains over it, and the best I could come up with was that the person would not just be a bodyguard, but a protector and facilitator for the queen to manage her daily life. Much like the batmen some of the army officers have at their disposal."

"That would certainly make sense," Bishop Gudbrand scrawled something in his ledger. "Which means we would have to quietly find these men that are brave, strong, loyal, fiercely protective and absolutely trustworthy. Then we must introduce them to the queen without her seeing our hand in the matter."

"You don't ask for much, do you Clarence?"

"I ask for the impossible, Hanne," the Bishop shot back, smiling warmly. "Knowing the Divine will provide it for us."

* * *

**AN:** Something evil this way comes. But what, and from where?

…and I've just realized I've been going all meta on my author's notes. I've gotta stop doing that. They're meant to be notes about how/why I'm writing and constant strings of excuses for not updating faster. At least, I think that's what they're meant to be. Okay, now I'm confused.


	25. Under the Stars

Elsa looked around dubiously. Last time she'd been in the forest she honestly had not been paying much attention. She'd been too concerned with running away. Now, of course, things were different. The ground was so uneven in places it was making using her wheelchair almost impossible. She'd been forced to make a path of ice smooth enough to ride along. Anna was well ahead of her, rushing between the trees, impatient to reach their final destination. All Elsa could see of her sister was her fiery orange braids and bouncing satchel—into which she'd crammed several things Elsa had not quite caught sight of. Things that didn't quite fit, and were hanging out the sides.

The dusky light filtering through the trees gave the scene an almost otherworldly cast, Elsa decided at length. It was as if she'd stepped out of reality and into one of the fantasies she'd often read. Maybe even a fairytale. She sighed. Life just wasn't like that. Now even the sound of Anna's footsteps had vanished, replaced by the burbling sound of running water. A river perhaps? The sound continued to build, and the pitch dropped to a deep, basso rumbling. Elsa still had no idea where they were going. She hoped they were close.

There was a clearing ahead, and Elsa could see the rippling surface of a large pool of water. Set back from the edge of the pool, hidden behind the trees, were several _bautasten_—standing stones. Venturing closer she could make out some runes carved in Elder Futhark. It was too dark to read the runes properly, but not so dark their form was unrecognizable. She turned to face the waterfall, noticing it seemed much darker now.

"Come on," Anna pleaded from behind the waterfall, emerging from what was obviously a narrow cave. "You have to see this."

"It's getting hard to see out here Anna."

"Here, let me help you."

Elsa was about to tell Anna to wait when she saw Anna moving behind her chair, carefully wheeling it into the cave. It was surprisingly large inside. Elsa was also surprised that nothing seemed to be using it for a shelter. They had traveled only a short distance when the roaring of the waterfall receded, and a short distance further on it became nothing more than a quiet whisper.

A new sound emerged in the darkness, and despite the roughness of the terrain she was being driven over, Elsa was intrigued. It was a soft susurration. A whisper on the wind. It sounded like a soft caress of wind against an entire forest. Was this what made the place so special? Elsa squinted, was it getting brighter too? A moment later she knew what it was that made this place special. Magical.

The narrower cave path broached into a large cavern. Water streamed in from above, whispering gently against the rocks as it descended in thin sheets. It fell against the lower pool like rain. Elsa suddenly felt the tension flowing out of her. Perversely she wanted to hold on to it, afraid she was losing something important, afraid she would forget something vital. A hand placed on her shoulder stilled that desire.

That same hand gestured skyward and Elsa felt the beginnings of something new stir within her soul. Above, past the flowing water, she could see the blue-black evening sky, and in that she could see the first stars. She looked again. It was just the first star, reflected off the running water and into the pool below. Suddenly the sky was aglow with pale colours and swirling lights. Bright greens and modest blues. A tiny trail of red snaking down from the heavens only vanish an instant later. Elsa was transfixed. Here was beauty she had often taken for granted from the window of her room. Now she was seeing it in a new light, and she shivered. _This_ was what magic was supposed to feel like.

While Elsa was lost in wonder, Anna had taken the time to strip down to just her undergarments, well aware that the night would eventually be cold, and the fact she didn't want to sleep in wet clothes. That was also why she'd bundled towels and blankets into her satchel. The stones underfoot were smooth but not too slippery. She sat at the edge of the underground pool, kicking her legs in the water, enjoying the way the ripples distorted the reflection of the sky above them. It was something quiet and relaxing—probably the last thing Elsa expected her to do, Anna thought happily. She was always glad to be able to surprise her sister, in a good way, she would often remind herself.

She was also secretly hoping that being in this place would mean Elsa would let her guard down, drop the walls around her heart. There were things Anna wanted to talk to her sister about. Little things, big things, embarrassing things and private things. All of those things at once. But she would have to speak carefully. She didn't want Elsa shutting her out again after all the progress they'd made. She wouldn't, Anna told herself. She just doesn't want to talk now—which could be code for 'I never want to talk about this'. Anna sighed, then turned to look at Elsa.

Her sister sat almost motionless in her icy chair, staring at the sky in wonder. It was as if she hadn't even noticed what Anna was doing. Perhaps she hadn't, Anna considered, realizing that she herself hadn't made much noise getting undressed and dipping her legs in the water. She didn't want to break the spell—Anna could see the smile forming on her sister's lips. Elsa was happy to just _be_, even for a moment. It was something precious and sacred. Anna couldn't bring herself to interrupt a moment like that.

"What is this place?" Elsa asked at length, breathless. Only then did she look over at Anna. "And what are you doing like that?"

"It's what I saw in my dreams Elsa. Just like I told you. The standing stones outside were what was marked on the map Kai showed me. Oh, and I'm taking a dip in a refreshing cave spring, care to join me?" Anna slipped into the water with that last line, floating gently towards the centre of the spring.

"I–uh," Elsa was at a loss. What could she say? Something trite about getting cold; something about behaviour unbecoming of princesses; or even simply 'no'. There was more to it of course, there always was. But it was obvious now that Anna wanted to bring her here for something special—or to show her something special. She'd succeeded. Then Elsa realized she was probably over-thinking things yet again.

"I'll join you, but you have to help me get there," Elsa remained in her chair, a safe distance from the edge of the spring. It was also clear now why Anna had insisted she wear one of her ice dresses for the occasion. Her sister was developing a surprising streak of duplicity when it came to sharing time with Elsa. She wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

Anna paddled slowly to the edge of the water, pulling herself out of the spring and moving over to collect Elsa. Wrapping her arms around Anna's shoulders for extra stability, Elsa let her sister carry her to the edge of the water, then gently place her in it. It was cold. Not that that ever bothered her, but she was surprised Anna wasn't bothered by it. If she was honest, it was not particularly cold, just… not very warm either.

Elsa marveled at the way she was floating in the water. Her legs drifted of their own accord, driven sideways by the current. She splashed around a little with her hands, managing to direct herself back to the edge of the spring. Anna floated past, hair spreading out beneath her like a tangled halo. Elsa looked to the sky once more. The aurora was still in full force, a display almost as beautiful as the one floating beside her.

The beauty Elsa saw in her sister went well past the merely physical. It was ephemeral, ethereal, and elemental. It was as much a part of Anna as her freckled skin or fiery hair. What Elsa found so beautiful—had always found beautiful—was Anna's capacity for love and forgiveness. Even in her darkest moments, Anna had not stopped loving her. Even after learning Elsa had nearly killed her twice, she forgave her. Elsa sighed softly, blinking back tears. She had nearly taken this wondrous light and snuffed it out for eternity. If that had happened—there was a thought, something they'd never spoken of. Something Elsa had never even thought to ask, despite how much she cared for Anna. Something that she was truly afraid to ask, because if the answer was what she thought it was, she'd have much, much more to atone for.

"Did it hurt?" Elsa asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did what hurt?" Anna was a little confused. What was her sister getting at here?

"When I–when I froze your heart. Did–did it hurt?"

Anna quietly changed the direction she was moving in, drifting closer to Elsa. As she took Elsa's hand in her own, she squeezed. That act was enough to draw out her sister's unshed tears. But it wasn't an answer. Anna knew the real answer would break her sister's heart. She could remember every excruciating second. What it felt like to literally have ice flowing through her veins. To feel her heart stop. To realize that she, too, was all too mortal. And finally, the pain caused by that blade before the utterly consuming darkness of oblivion. The warmth of thawing had been nearly as painful, but mercifully brief. She still wouldn't have wished that kind of punishment on her worst—and quite possibly only—enemy.

"Anna… did I–did I hurt you?" there was a pleading note to Elsa's voice now. It was tugging at Anna's heartstrings. "Please, just say something… please."

"I–I," Anna began. She didn't know how much to say. She didn't want to hurt Elsa, but she didn't want to lie either. She knew Elsa would take her silence to mean the pain had been unbearable. She'd probably see through any lie she came up with too. Not answering was out of the question—that was Elsa's specialty, not hers. In the end the truth won out.

"It hurt," Anna squeezed her sister's hand as she spoke, drawing strength from their connection. "I won't lie to you Elsa. It really did hurt. But you can't really feel cold and it doesn't bother you, so you'll probably never know what it feels like to be that cold, so very cold Elsa. Please don't beat yourself up over it. Please don't do that. It won't help anyone. Can you just accept that you hurt me, but it was an accident, so I forgive you?"

"Maybe," Elsa squeezed her sister's hand. "One day. I don't know how you can forgive me so easily, I still can't forgive myself."

"Easy," Anna replied smoothly, gently paddling them towards the centre of the spring. "Because I know it's not your fault."

"But it was. If I'd had better control, if I hadn't gotten so emotional it wo—"

"Then I guess this is entirely your fault too," Anna spoke sharply, placing her sister's hand atop her breast. "Because it's something you were afraid of doing, and now suddenly you're doing it."

"I—wait. Something… umm, that's entirely different. _You_ put my hand there."

"…and you could have stopped me doing that at any point, you realize?"

"It's not the same thing."

"Sure it is," Anna replied with unshakeable faith. "It was an accident. If I'd been standing a foot to the right, or two to the left, the ice would have missed me. Did you know that? If I'd had the presence of mind to duck it might have hit me in the head again—and we'd never have had this conversation. You're not the only one to blame for what happened in your ice palace Elsa. I did kind of provoke you. It was me that made you run off into the night after all. If anything, all of the blame for—for everything should be mine. If I hadn't tried to rush into things with Hans and if I'd just maybe let you speak with me alone or even if I hadn't taken your glove, then… all of this might never have happened.

"But if this never happened, then I never got to meet you again. The real you. Things would have gone back to the way they were. I would still think you hated me. I'd think true love was something I could find overnight. Hans might even have won. On the ice I joked that this cost us an arm and a leg. Maybe the price _was_ high. But understand this: I would never trade what we have now for anything in the world. These little moments when we can really see each other for who we are—where no one else can judge us. I'd give up my legs if it meant we could share more of these moments Elsa. That's how precious they are to me—I mean these moments, not my legs and oh no what did I just say?"

"I hate you," Elsa whispered, her voice hollow and empty. "You're everything I could never be."

Anna drew her sister close, trying awkwardly to hug her while floating in the middle of the spring before finally settling on taking her hand once more. The tears flowed freely, and as Anna squeezed, she felt Elsa squeeze back. The connection gave them strength. The aurora dimmed as Elsa's tears ran into the water. Eventually she stilled. Something about the stars above them made everything seem small. Compared to the vastness of the heavens, their problems were as nothing. It made the world alright, just for a moment.

"Can we… talk?" Anna asked after a prolonged silence.

"About what?" Elsa asked cautiously.

"About those things you don't want to talk about. Like lady parts, or choosing your boyfriend, or—"

"Anna!"

"What?" Anna was the picture of innocence. "Like anyone would ever hear us in here."

"It's just… I'm not ready to talk about it Anna."

"Well, if you do pick one of them, eventually they'll want to… and don't you want to know if…?" Anna trailed off suggestively.

"If what?"

"If it still works?"

"If what still wor—Anna. Enough. Please."

"Fine. But we're gonna talk about this one day. Hopefully before you choose one and… hey. Okay, cold cold cold cold. I get it, I get it."

There was a pregnant pause.

"But you know I'm only asking because I'm concerned about you. Y'know, all of you. I mean, I want you to be happy, and I've heard that's a really great way to—cold. Very cold. Oh come on, it's not like you never…" Anna trailed off, finally realizing something important about her sister's experiences in life. "Oh."

Elsa laughed, a little self-deprecating sound. "You're right, you know. Up until very, very recently, I'd never even thought of that. I mean, I knew what it was, what it lead to. But I never thought of it as an option for me. Never thought I'd find someone who'd be able to accept the burden of loving me like that. Then you came along. And—ugh, it's all so messed up. I don't know where I am. What I'm doing. I know I kind of like Hank. Søren too. I like you more, and that just seems wrong and… and… I don't know what to do Anna. I just don't know."

"It's okay to not know things sometimes, Elsa. It means you get to learn something. Like how you really got the white in your hair. Or that your sister has ice powers. Or why your boyfriend always smells like reindeer. Or that your sister loves you like _that_. And that she's never touched… cold. Cold. Elsa, behave. We _need_ to have this talk. Fine just try and freeze me then—but it's either me, here, now; or when we get back I'll find a way to get the physician—"

"Doctor Arnesen," Elsa corrected automatically.

"—okay, I'll get doctor Arensen to give you a lecture and a proper exam. Is that what you want?" There was a slight pause, then: "Cold. Cold cold cold. Okay, _that_ was immature. You remember when you wanted to talk to me about my arm?"

"And you ate all the chocolate?"

"What, I was nervous," Anna turned to face her sister. "I guess I never asked how you felt talking about this—are we talking about this? Did we just talk about this? I'm sorry if it makes you so nervous but I—I don't actually know why I want to know so badly. I just kind of do. Is that weird? Am I weird? Yeah, I'm weird. Wait, what?"

"Anna?"

"What?"

"You're doing it again."

"Oh, right. Sorry," Anna took a deep breath, looking her sister in eye—as much as she could while they both floated in the spring. "Elsa, can we please talk about a certain part of your body that might or might not be working properly. I know you don't want to talk about it now—cold—but every time you say that I get more and more afraid it means you don't want to talk about it ever. Cold. Elsa!"

"Sorry," Elsa winced, aware of the trails of ice spiralling around her at that moment. "I'm not really that nervous Anna. I guess I'm willing to talk about—"

"Then why do you keep trying to freeze my butt off?" Anna asked skeptically. "I quite like it still attached to me, you know?"

Elsa sighed heavily. "It's because I'm scared Anna."

"You're scared of talking?"

"No, princess feistypants, I'm scared of what it means. What if… what if… I'm broken?"

"I'm not exactly sure _how_ you'd break that," Anna joked. "I mean, I can see what might break the other bit, but what we have? I'm not seeing it."

"Anna, if you really do want to have this talk, then please take it seriously."

"I'm sorry, it was just—okay, I'll take it seriously," she let out a deep, calming breath. "But I may explode if I can't use some of the jokes I learned recently."

"Oh no…" Elsa's face fell. "No… you didn't."

"I did. I still don't see what's wrong with like half of those jokes anyway. They're _brilliant_. And we're getting distracted."

"It's just—it makes me uncomfortable Anna. I know I need to talk about these things with someone, one day. It's just… well, I feel awkward talking to you about it," Elsa winced, looking away from her sister. "You're my sister, and I don't think we're supposed to talk about things like that, but I really don't know anymore."

Elsa sighed heavily, and Anna remained silent. "I'm afraid of losing you again Anna. You're more than just a sister to me now. You're a confidante, a helper. More than that. You're my best friend Anna—and I guess my only friend too. I never wanted to burden you with that but—"

"You're not a burden Elsa. You never are. You're my sister, and that's all you need to be," Anna brushed her hand against Elsa's cheek, forcing the blonde to turn. "Never doubt that."

Elsa placed a hand gently on Anna's cheek. "Never change. You're just so amazing the way you are. You even managed to get me to talk about—this"—Elsa gestured between her legs with her free hand—"I never had the courage to talk about things like that with anyone. I wish I had your strength."

"You do," Anna assured her sister. "You just use it differently. I know I could never have put up with that much paperwork. Or those letters. Or the angry visitors, or—anyway, we keep getting distracted."

"Maybe we _both_ don't to talk about it," Elsa suggested casually.

"No, it's just you," Anna winked at her sister, "I, on the other hand"—Anna giggled at her own wordplay—"was going to suggest to you that there's an easy way to find out whether or not your lady parts are 'broken', like you said. I mean it's really, really easy, although I'd guess you'd want to be alone with your thoughts when you test it."

"Anna, what are you getting at?"

"I mean, haven't you ever touched yourself… you know… there?"

"Have I ever _what?_" there was a distinct look of consternation on Elsa's face as she tried to figure out what Anna was saying. There was silence save for the falling water as the moon rose higher and something finally clicked in Elsa's mind. Several tense minutes had passed for Anna, once again wondering if she'd somehow managed to 'break' her sister like that night in the bath—or worse, insulted her somehow. Elsa did seem quite prudish to her.

"Oh, you mean…?" Anna could tell from her sister's confused tone she didn't want to complete the sentence.

"_That_. Yes," Anna replied helpfully. "I used to think of prince charming—now I kinda like thinking of Kristoff."

"What?" Elsa's deadpan tone wouldn't put off her sister.

"I wouldn't be upset if you wanted to think of _me_, while you…" Anna winked devilishly. Elsa almost missed it in the moonlight. Almost.

"Anna!" the horrified shock and embarrassment in Elsa's voice made it worth it. Anna shivered on the surface of the spring, dragging herself towards the edge. She was looking for a very warm towel, and didn't care what her sister thought at this point. Especially as most of the spring was starting to ice over.

"Anna, no—I didn't mean to—I'm sorry Anna. You just—no, _I_ just…"

"It's okay Elsa, I'm just cold, not frozen. Don't worry about it—the look on your face…" Anna dissolved into a fit of giggles, rolling around on her towel.

Elsa hid her face behind her hands, slowly trying to thaw the spring. "Why do you have to make fun of everything?"

"Come on, admit it, I make everything fun. Look, I'm just gonna go get some fish—I hear there's a particularly cold one in this dark cave somewhere in the forest—"

"Anna!" but Elsa was laughing as she tried to admonish her sister, ruining the effect.

After letting her drift a while longer, Anna carefully helped her sister up onto the shelf of rock around the spring, laying out a towel for her next to her own. Then, after a few moments of rummaging around in her satchel she withdrew a small lantern and a tin of matches, which she promptly used to light the wick of the lantern. The slowly flickering firelight lent a soft, dusky glow to the cave and the uneven ground between the sisters.

Making sure Elsa was comfortable on her towel, Anna lay down once more, turning sideways to just watch her sister. She knew, deep down, that there was something between them. Something more than their bond as sisters. Something deeper and stronger and quite possibly forbidden. But Anna didn't mind. It was part and parcel of Elsa, and she wouldn't ignore it any more than she could Elsa's laugh, or that tiny smile she got when thinking about some of the men she knew. Anna wasn't about to judge because she knew she probably had the exact same smile whenever she thought about Kristoff.

Anna realized something else in that moment. Something important about the relationship she had with Elsa. What it was developing between them. She could show Elsa something, bypass certain barriers, and let her know that certain fears were completely unfounded. It would work as long as Elsa didn't scream or something when she got touched. Anna smiled—Elsa wasn't likely to scream, no, she'd more likely freeze, but that was much easier to deal with.

"I figured it out," Elsa heard Anna say, the redhead suddenly leaning over her. "I mean, I think I have. What you wanted between us."

Elsa gasped as Anna laid her hand on her groin. She didn't know if she could—or would—feel anything, but it sent a terrifying shiver up her spine knowing only the thin fabric of her underwear was keeping Anna from touching her most intimate places. Indecision paralyzed her, and Elsa didn't know what to do. So close to something she'd thought she'd wanted—but now she was afraid of it actually happening. It didn't make any sense. At least until Anna started speaking again.

"What you wanted was never there," Anna said gently. Elsa only had time to think how wrong her sister was before she felt Anna's hand gently touching the top of her breast, just to the left of the middle of her chest. Her heart was pounding now, and she was certain Anna would feel its insistent rhythm. But when Anna spoke again, it was calm, inviting, barely above a whisper. Meant for her ears only.

"It was here," Elsa felt Anna pressing lightly against her chest when she spoke, surer than ever that her sister would feel her racing heart and know something was amiss. But she didn't. And suddenly they were very close. So close the glistening wet strands of fiery hair were blocking out the light from the lantern. Elsa knew then what her sister was trying to do—had succeeded in doing. She'd touched Elsa—in intimate places—and nothing bad had happened. No ice. No freezing. No powers at all. She was trying to show her it would be alright to actually have someone love her like that.

So when she felt Anna's lips brush against hers Elsa nearly fainted in surprise. Just as suddenly Anna was longer on top of her, but breathing rapidly beside her. Elsa touched a finger to her lips, trying to figure out if she'd just imagined that kiss. She couldn't tell. It was so brief she had no way to know. She hadn't even known she'd wanted something like that from… anyone, to be honest. And she certainly hadn't expected her first kiss—if it had actually happened—to come from her sister. She didn't want to break the spell of that moment, but her desire to know was just too insistent. That, and her sister's rapid breathing told her that it probably was real. Right?"

"Did you just…?" Elsa asked, completely breathless.

Anna didn't answer at first, just gently squeezed Elsa's hand. Then, finally: "Yes."

"My first kiss…" Elsa wondered out loud. "My sister…"

"Your first?" Anna asked in mock horror, throwing her arm across her head, pretending to hide her shame—and laughing the whole time. "You realize this means I'm your one true love and we have to get married right away, right?"

Anna would have rubbed her shoulder if she'd still had another hand. That might have been slightly harder than Elsa had intended. It still felt like she'd just won a medal.

* * *

**AN:** Okay, that was fun to write. Also, really difficult to write too. I'm not sure I managed to get everything between the sisters right, but at the end it felt right, so I'm going with it. As always, if you have a comment or a review, don't hesitate to put it up—I will always try and respond to those reviews.

Serendipitously, this chapter marks both the end of a particularly entertaining—to me, at least—story arc, and a major milestone, being the 25th chapter of this story. I'm honestly not quite sure what to make of that except that I probably have too much free time.


	26. Consequences

**AN:** Before writing this I read the entirety of "A Snowflake in Spring" by Celery Sticks.  
It was not my best decision ever. The feels were just… oh man, the feels.

But I managed to get all those daggers out of my feels in the end, and then I just wrote. And wrote. And wrote. And that's what brings us to chapter 26 here.

* * *

"I did it last time, I'll do it again," Vanja warned the sailor sitting next to her.

"Fine, Ostberg-Lang," the sailor smiled drunkenly, patting his muscular chest and showing off his tattooed arms. "But you can't resist this forever!"

Vanja downed her drink, looked at the sailor, then mumbled. "Oi, Frida! Refill!"

The sailor took a great draught of his own drink, slamming the mug on the table between them. Then he eyed up the competition. He wasn't the only one vying for miss Ostberg-Lang's attention tonight. Two blacksmiths, a silversmith, another sailor, and an absolute bear of a man from the artillery corps. So far miss Ostberg-Lang hadn't shown the slightest interest in any of them—aside from the challenge they proposed about the last man standing getting a kiss. Probably a very drunken kiss, the sailor considered, the way things were going.

The blacksmith on Vanja's right placed a hand on her fur-covered shoulder, and in his inebriated state let it slip lower than it should have. She reacted immediately, cracking the man's knuckles against the table with her left hand. Drunk men took liberties. Liberties she couldn't afford to have taken. Not since… Vanja shook her head, burying the memory with the drink Frida had just brought her. The blacksmith was growling something unimportant, rubbing his bruised knuckles.

After another swig of her drink, Vanja finally took pity on the man, taking his bruised hand in her own, turning it over and inspecting the damage. Bruised knuckles, split skin.

"You'll live," she pronounced, dropping his hand. "Stop touching what isn't yours and that won't happen."

The blacksmith growled something unintelligible, but stared into his drink. Vanja smiled as the sailor who'd tried making a move earlier passed out across from her with a heavy thud against the table, sloshing rum from his over-filled mug. The silversmith hadn't lasted long at all. He'd been too refined for her tastes anyway. Overly polite, almost fawning. But the attention had been nice, for a while.

Now, now she had a little fire in her belly, Vanja really felt like loosening up. A different kind of contest. Arm wrestling, maybe—that would certainly put these men in their place. Underneath the furs she always wore, Vanja Ostberg-Lang was very muscular for a woman her size. For anyone her size, really. The furs weren't for warmth though, as she knew so many assumed. It was because she liked the feel. What most people would never know was that making them had once been her great craft. She still hunted sometimes, following the old ways. Selling pelts helped make a good living, as did her time serving on the council. She knew one of those would eventually run out, and was fairly certain it wouldn't be the pelts she hunted for.

But she was getting sidetracked, time for a contest. She had her quarry in sight now. The other sailor, the one still somehow conscious after drinking so heavily he could have set sail on a sea of alcohol.

"You," Vanja pointed at him, holding her right arm out in the accepted form of challenge for this kind of contest. "Let's go."

"Whaddo I get ifs I win?" the sailor slurred.

"I'll give you a kiss. But you ain't gonna win, tough guy."

The blacksmith on her right counted them in. Vanja could feel the sailor trying to force her hand over, and let him have a an inch or so movement. Then she tensed her muscles and the sailor's hand stopped dead, a look of surprise crossing his drunken face.

"You're cute," Vanja teased the man. "Are you just going to let me win?"

The sailor redoubled his efforts to force her hand over, and Vanja had to admit to being impressed by the massive hawser like muscles in the man's arm. He was very strong, but also very drunk.

"That's more like it!"

With a grunt of effort Vanja pushed the sailor's hand back, forcing it back past vertical. She felt the sailor give a desperate burst of strength to try and force her back, but to no avail. His hand slammed against the wooden table—not quite hard enough to hurt—and Vanja smiled in triumph.

"You buy the next round," The sailor opened his mouth to protest, but Vanja cut him off. "You think a kiss from me wouldn't be worth that much? Oh, well"—she jerked a thumb towards the silversmith and the other sailor—"you can leave them out. It's not like they'd appreciate a drink right now."

"I accept challenge," the massive artilleryman held his arm out in the correct form. "I win, one kiss. You win, I buy the next round."

"Done!" Vanja slammed her fist on the table, then reached out to take the artilleryman's hand. It absolutely dwarfed hers, but she wasn't about to back down. She would never back down from a fight.

The blacksmith counted them in again, then patted his comrade on the shoulder because he'd just got up to leave, muttering something about important work and sleeping it off. He stayed long enough to watch the struggle though. It took ten minutes, and Vanja fought for every one of them, feeling her arm slowly falling sideways as her hand grew ever closer to the tabletop. The artilleryman was just too large, and not nearly drunk enough to be sloppy or weakened by his inebriation.

Massaging her nearly numb hand for a moment, Vanja slammed both her fists on the table in frustration. Well, he'd won, and she'd underestimated him. He leaned in for his prize. Vanja made a show of sniffing his face.

"Clean enough," she said at last, then planted a drunken half-kiss on his lips to the hoots and jeers of the rest of the patrons in Hus av Strykejern.

"You've never seen anyone lose a bet before?" she asked angrily, eyeing the room around her. Everyone else turned back to their own conversations. "I'm done."

And with that, she left, staggering through the dimly lit streets of Arendelle until she reached her home on the outskirts near the woods. She didn't care that being drunk probably made her more vulnerable. It meant she wouldn't have to remember that… no, she was too drunk to deal with that right now. Hopefully she would have forgotten it by the morning. Then she could just go back to hating everyone in equal measure.

Still in his workshop late at night, Søren had actually seen Vanja stumble past, and had taken a short break to quietly ensure she was okay, watching from afar as she made it to her door. Slipping back into his workshop he sighed at the slightly charred pasty atop the coals in the forge. These things happened, and the filling was still good anyway. The charring just hid his blackened fingerprints.

He was nearly done with the wheels now. The hubs had been easy for Søren, little more than short, hollow tubes, surrounded by discs that had required a great many holes to be drilled through them. He was immensely grateful for the drilling machine his earnings had afforded him two years prior. Then he had to make the spokes—he had talked with other members of the blacksmith's guild about bicycle tyres, and the best way to construct them. Over a hundred spokes all told, all of equal length, with a short bend to hook securely into the hub. The opposite end of each spoke had to be threaded, and then secured inside the rim with a brass nipple.

Søren sighed, getting back to work. Each of the spokes did not extend straight out to the rim of the wheel, instead, they crossed each other in triplets, forming a complicated weave of thin metal rods. Both sides of the wheel were constructed that way, with the nipples screwed on loosely to hold the spokes in place as the other smiths had advised. He was unconcerned that they hadn't questioned his motives. They knew he was always attempting to improve his craft, and if they could show him something new, well, next time he wouldn't have so many questions about their techniques—some of which were quite radical.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Søren yawned, taking in his work. One wheel so far, but now his mind was numbed, and the spokes still had not been tensioned. But he was too tired to continue, so he left himself a short note, and collapsed on the small bed in the room at the back of the workshop. Konrad would understand if he wasn't home. He was a good kid like that. As he drifted off to sleep Søren found himself wondering if Elsa might be so understanding of such things.

"What do you mean, 'missing'?" Kai held Gerda's gaze levelly, trying to hide his own worry at the implication behind what he'd just heard.

"I checked their rooms Kai, they're not there. Not in the ballroom either. Or anywhere in the castle for that matter. No one can recall seeing them since before yesterday evening. They missed dinner. Princess Anna never skips a meal—"

"We have a problem," Kai's voice was level, but shaky. The queen always had a plan however, and she would have left clues. "I will check Elsa's study. Princess Anna may be irresponsible, but I know queen Elsa would at least have left a note if she didn't have time to talk to us."

Kai's hand went to the crucifix beneath his shirt, rubbing it through the fabric as if it were a talisman. If anything has happened to their majesties—no. I mustn't think like that. This is _not_ the same as three years ago. Elsa had mentioned something about the north mountain and another—creation. Was she trying to resolve that? One hand still on his crucifix, Kai opened the door to queen Elsa's study. Wan sunlight filtered in through the high windows, illuminating a small piece of parchment in the centre of the ornate desk.

Smoothing the paper against the desk, Kai read it and breathed a sigh of relief. _Anna is taking me to a secret place she says Kai helped her find. We intend to be back before midnight._ Kai read the note again, making sure of what he'd just seen. Before midnight. _Before_. Kai hurried to the wall, grabbing the first map of Arendelle he could find, tracing out all possible routes to the place he had helped the princess find several days ago. It was a respectable distance, a hike maybe two hours long through the woods. Through the woods… through the border forest.

Only then did Kai remember princess Anna's admission about becoming very lost when searching for the queen. Only then did he think to question whether or not his queen might have similar problems. She knew the castle well—she couldn't not—and she knew well enough how to navigate the township of Arendelle. But the forest was something else entirely.

Replacing the map shakily, Kai left the study and went looking for Gerda. Their discussion was brief, and to the point. The captain of the guards was informed of the situation, and search parties were immediately dispatched to the woods. Marshal Gerhardt dispatched his own teams when he heard the news. Teams composed of military scouts and the best fusiliers from the Royal Marines. Teams capable of dispatching any bandits or enemy raiding parties with perfunctory ease. It might not be enemy action, but Gerhardt was unwilling to take that chance.

Inwardly, Gerhardt cursed at the queen's pacifistic nature. It was probably worse that the princess was with her. Elsa would be forced to hold back, to avoid hurting her sister. Gerhardt's blood ran cold. _Both_ queen Elsa _and_ princess Anna were missing. A crisis of succession would cripple Arendelle. Gerhardt forced himself to exhale. To consider the possibilities. He already knew neither of the royal sisters had taken a bodyguard with them. They had taken no escort. They were travelling the border forest at night. Elsa had her magic, but would it be enough?

Again, there was the possibility that it might not be enemy action, but that was simply too convenient for Marshal Gerhardt's tastes. Such a move would be a masterstroke at crippling a small nation like Arendelle, and without their queen, who could the people look to to save them. There were few times Gerhardt regretted having earned his rank the hard way, but this was one of them. His soldiers would listen, but the people would not. He slammed his fist against the edge of his map table in frustration, the tiny figures atop it rattling unsteadily. The best he could hope for now was that this was simply some kind of mistake, and that the queen had been negligent in informing her staff of her plans.

And when and if she got back, Gerhardt was going to assign her a bodyguard, whether she liked it or not. Queen Elsa's safety was of paramount importance. That was all there was to it. To keep Arendelle safe, he was going to have to keep its queen safe, possibly even against her wishes—because she seemed to have little regard for her own security, even factoring in the power of her magic. Gerhardt slammed his fist against the table again, several small figures toppling sideways. Dealing with her was infuriating, but she_ was_ the queen, and he would put no other before her.

Lieutenant Erikson had been tired and grumpy. Had been. Those emotions vanished when he was told why he'd been awakened so early after conducting night drills what felt like mere minutes ago. Elsa was missing. So was Anna. The palace guards had already been sent out to search the forest. Scouts and marine fusiliers were being formed into teams in order to assist them—in case the royal sisters were not missing, but _taken_. Hank was cleaned, dressed and fully armed in under five minutes. So was everyone else under his command.

Each team consisted of two scouts and four fusiliers. There were twenty such teams, and commandant Erling Horn was informing all of them just how the search was to be conducted. The border forest was not considered the safest of places, and that was before the border kingdoms themselves were taken into account. If enemy action was confirmed, the fusiliers were to launch an immediate rescue operation if the scouts could safely locate the queen and the princess. If not, they were to report back all their findings in the hopes that it would help speed up the search for the royal sisters.

"You have your orders," barked the commandant. "Now go! Double time!"

Deep within the border forest, hidden in a cave behind a waterfall, lying near an underground spring, were the royal sisters. One was snoring. The other was being used as a blanket. Elsa let out a surprised gasp when she realized exactly what was going on. Anna lay beneath her, wearing a dress—half wearing a dress, and three towels and two blankets were piled up atop them. It was actually ridiculously warm in the pile of blankets, and the platinum blonde queen of Arendelle struggled to free herself from its embrace.

She watched Anna roll over, make an odd half-snore, and reach for something before burrowing down into the blankets. The tangled mass of fiery orange atop her head made it look she'd lost a fight with a broom cupboard. Elsa couldn't help but laugh at the mental image that presented. Anna fighting off animated mops and broomsticks before getting ambushed by a soapy bucket and a sponge. Her laughter woke Anna, who immediately complained about the bright sun above them.

"And… and… oh no, we've been here all night. I've been here all night," her hand went to her hair and she giggled. "I guess that's never gonna change. Elsa—Elsa, are you still here? Where'd you go?"

"Over here Anna," Elsa replied from the shadows. "It was getting too hot under that blanket—how can you sleep in that?"

"Because it's nice and warm and oh—wait, was it too hot because of me, or because it's so many blankets?"

"Because of the blankets, Anna. It's fine," Elsa sighed, sitting up, using her magic to keep her upright. "It's not fine. I'm not fine. I—You surprised me last night. I–I'm not sorry, or angry. I'm confused Anna. Everything you said was _right_. I can't deny that. Everything you did. But I still don't know why. Why, Anna?"

"Why what, Elsa?" Anna's voice took on a concerned tone. "Did I–did I do something wrong?"

"No, and that's just it. It felt right. When you kissed me, I mean. It felt right, and it feels so wrong. You're my sister and I shouldn't love you like that, but I do. I know you love me, but I never thought it was in that way…"

"I–I'm not sure it _is_ in that way Elsa. I love you as my sister. I love you as my friend. I love you more than you'll ever know—and I don't always know how to show it, but I like seeing you smile; hearing you laugh. I love everything about you Elsa—well, except for your habit of getting up at dawn, and your stuffy queenliness sometimes, and the way you always have to be so responsible in front everyone. Or the way you have to hide things from people. Hide things from me. I mean, I understand why Elsa, I really do, it's just… it hurts me when you do that. And I know that knowing that hurts you too, so that's why I try not to push these things too much."

Elsa cleared her throat, dragging herself into her chair. "We should be heading back now princess feistypants."

"Really, Elsa, that's all you've got?" Anna stared disbelievingly at her sister, one eyebrow raised. "I tell you why I like you—how I like you—and I admit there's some things that aren't that great, and all you've got is a 'let's go home'? Seriously?"

"I'm sorry Anna, that was unkind of me. You were honest and open, and I just brushed that off. I like that you feel you can always be that open and honest with me. I'm just a little distracted, okay? I'm not sure what time it is, and I left a note for Kai saying we'd be back before midnight. I'm hungry, and I—well I don't know, really. Hey, how did you manage to fit all that into your satchel—well, mostly?"

"Like this!" Anna demonstrated, shoving everything in, pounding it until it fit, then barely manage to close the flap and secure it. "See, nothing to it. Umm, wanna do anything about your hair—I know we can't save mine."

Conjuring a mirror of ice, Elsa self-consciously ran her hands through her hair, taming most of the frizz and flyaways. Being able to actually freeze her hair in place had nothing to do with it. Or at least Anna hadn't figured out that trick yet. Peering sideways at the mirror, Anna made a half-hearted attempted at reducing her own mane. It made about as much difference as yelling at the wind. She shrugged and decided she could simply live with it.

Emerging from behind the waterfall, Anna pushing her chair, the first thing Elsa saw were the _bautasten_ she'd been unable to read at dusk the previous evening. She bid Anna to stop in front of those standing stones, reaching a hand up to trace the runic script carved into the stones. One of the many things she'd learned in her self-imposed isolation was how to read runes—not just modern runes, but the Elder Futhark as well.

The runes were a short verse extolling the virtues of a long dead king, his wife, and their child. The words were simple, but they evoked a strange longing in the queen. She gasped when she read the queen's _bautasten_. The rune poem was very different, the prose much more elaborate, but that was not what had caught Elsa's attention. It was the word used to describe what the queen could do: _Ismakt_. It meant ice powers in Norse.

Seeing the word was such a shock, such a revelation, that Elsa nearly wept in relief, prompting her sister to ask if something was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," Elsa took Anna's hand and guided it to the rune-word. "See this word here?"—Anna nodded, looking questioningly at her sister—"_Ismakt_. It means ice powers, Anna. Ice powers. It means I'm not the only one—but I've never seen that name on the lineage pedigree. The stones are very old, so it's possible that this is from, well, before."

"I wonder what she was like." Anna spoke wistfully, running her fingers gently across the runes. "I wonder if she was like you?"

"I hope not," Elsa replied sadly.

"Why, Elsa?" Anna remained positive. "You're an amazing person, and I can list off like literally dozens of things that make you great but I guess it's not always working because you can't be positive all the time like me and it's okay to not be positive all the time because I guess, I mean it must be hard for someone like you to be brave and face the world and I'm rambling and Elsa did I say something wrong?"

"You wan't to know why I hope she wasn't like me?" Elsa wiped away a tear.

"Why?"

"Because she couldn't have you. If she was like me, and she didn't have you…"

It was Anna's turn to wipe away tears then, and she had to tell a half-hearted joke. "You really _do_ care."

Seeing the mischievous grin on Anna's face was what led to half an hour of chasing each other through the dense woodland, scaring various small animals and scattering snow everywhere. It didn't matter to Elsa that her hair was all messed up, or that every other minute she seemed to be getting tipped from her chair by uncooperative tree roots or hillocks or fallen logs. It didn't matter because she had her magic to put herself right, and if that failed, Anna would double back, deposit her in the chair, and run off again. But even as they played, doubts began to gather in Elsa's mind.

It was easily mid-morning. Possibly noon, depending on when they'd actually woken up. Elsa had left a note for Kai, as she had said earlier. The note was to inform him where they'd gone, and when they were expected back. She sincerely hoped that her and Anna hadn't caused some sort of minor disaster by spending the night in the woods. Remembering the geography of Arendelle, Elsa asked herself exactly which woods these were likely to be. The answer hit her like a sack of bricks. The _border_ forest.

"Damn," it was barely above a whisper.

"What?" Anna managed to hear it, despite being nearly twenty feet away.

"Anna, we just spent the night in the border forest. I told Kai we'd be back by midnight. I think we may have created a slight problem—okay, that's an understatement. It's going to be huge. People are going to be blamed—things are going to be rough when we get back. Not right away, but after. I'm sure the council will be having words with me about 'irresponsible jaunts with your sister' when they find me. Anna I love everything you've done, but—"

"Did I mess up?" Anna asked, voice full of regret. "Was it bad?"

"It's my fault Anna. I didn't think of what might happen, and I didn't know where we were going—no, it was a good surprise, don't apologize—but I should have realized we might end up spending the night away from the castle. I messed things up. Again. Freezing you. Dismissing Gerhardt. Terrifying the Bishop. I keep messing up Anna. Why can't I do anything right?"

"Because you're trying to hard," Anna placed her hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Just relax. Take a deep breath. Let things happen. That's how I deal with messing stuff up. I mean, when I'm not chasing my sister through the fjord and having a whole tree's worth of snow dumped on me and splashing through a frozen river and climbing a mountain to find her shut up in the most awesomest palace made of ice I've ever seen. I mean, there was this one time—"

"Anna, you're rambling."

"Oh. Sorry," and Anna gave Elsa the most adorable chagrined smile she'd ever seen. "Hey, umm, which way is it back to the castle?"

"Kai wasn't lying when he said you have no sense of direction, was he?"

"Hey!" Anna gave an indignant pout. "Okay, fine. But it was hard finding the north mountain in that blizzard. _Everything_ was white."

"Anna, you can see it from the castle. It's so distinctive it's impossible to miss. Supposedly, because _somehow_, you managed to miss it."

"Hey!"

"Next time we go out I'm bringing a map and a compass, and I'm going to teach you how to use them properly. I'm sure Kristoff knows," Elsa teased with that last statement.

The shouting could be heard for hundreds of yards. Elsa and her sister finally noticed it, hearing their names on the wind. And that was when Elsa knew she was in trouble. She felt six years old again, her hand somehow caught in the cupboard door that held all the chocolate. The fate of which had been obvious from the brownish smudges around her lips and cheeks. This was going to be so much worse. She was the queen. She was supposed to be a responsible adult. The people scolding her had good reason to do so. And they weren't her parents, but people she knew to some degree; knew and respected. Oh, was it ever going to be bad.

Elsa buried her head in her hands. "I'm dead," she mumbled.

"What?" Anna stared straight at her sister, wondering if she'd actually heard what she just thought she'd heard.

"I am so dead. The whole kingdom must be looking for us now. They're going to ask why. Ask where we were. Ask what we were—ack, Anna. You know I'd never tell them _that_. It was hard enough telling you. But you understood it. Everything it meant. Not everyone is so understanding and forgiving as you are."

"You're afraid they're going to punish you?" Anna asked, incredulous. "But you're the queen. How could they possibly punish you?"

"They can't. Not really. But they'll have lectures for me. Harsh words. And I have to listen, because it _is_ my fault this time."

Anna's reply was cut short when men of the palace guard came forward through the trees, several of them on horseback. One of the men did a double-take upon seeing the miniature forest caught in princess Anna's hair. The queen's hair was in a similar state, but somehow she managed to make it look regal and somewhat dignified. The lieutenant leading the search party dismounted from his horse, offering the sisters a curt bow.

"Your highness, your majesty, if you would, my men and I will lead you from the forest," he turned to another rider, taking his own horse by the reins. "Tell them to call off the search. The queen has been found."

"We can find our own way home."

"Then we will serve as an escort. The border forest is not a safe place, your majesty."

Elsa knew there was no way out of it this time. Throughout the entire hike home it felt like her cheeks would ignite with the heat of her shame. All this commotion, simply because she hadn't arrived home on time. Elsa felt terrible for worrying everyone so much, but at the same time she was happy. It showed how much the people cared for their queen. She still wondered how many were helping in the search simply because it was expected of them, and how many were genuinely concerned for her and Anna's safety.

It was several hours later when they reached the castle gates. Kai stood next to the gates, one hand against his chest, holding the crucifix beneath his shirt. His eyes were full of worry and Elsa couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Anna, staring at her feet, eyes downcast. They'd just wanted to have some innocent fun, Elsa knew Anna had just wanted to show her the spring. They'd messed up and put an entire kingdom on edge.

Kai bowed deeply, finally letting go of the crucifix beneath his shirt. "Your majesty, it is a great relief to see you have returned unharmed."

He turned to Anna. "Your highness, what possessed you to drag the queen through the woods past midnight?"

"We were going on an adventure. You know the place you helped me find?" Anna was full of energy once more, no more shame-faced. "It's totally real, and amazing, and wonderful and I don't have words for it, Kai. I just don't. I know Elsa does. She knows so many. Oh, oh, and we found these standing stones—well, the ones you found on the map, and Elsa says there was a poem, and the queen—the one in the poem, not Elsa—she had _Ismakt_. She was like Elsa, but not Elsa, and, and I gotta know more. There's gotta be something in the library, right Kai? Right?"

The ever reliable servant simply gave Elsa a look. She returned it with a raised eyebrow and an expressive shrug. It was Anna, what else could she do?

"Ah, your majesty, Marshal Gerhardt left a note for you earlier. It is in the envelope on your desk. He did not seem happy."

"I'm not sure Marshal Gerhardt is capable of being happy, Kai. He seems all too busy with making plans and scheming about possible conflicts. It's—" Elsa was going to say 'unsettling', because that was how she felt, but it wasn't fair to Gerhardt. He was only doing what he was required to do. "It's his job. I would hazard a guess that the note he left me has something about my safety being his job too. If you wouldn't mind?"

Kai stepped aside, letting Elsa wheel her chair into the castle proper. Gerhardt's note was exactly where Kai had said it would be, placed neatly at the edge of the ornate desk in her study. The books and ledgers from two days ago were undisturbed. Hands trembling, Elsa opened the envelope. The note contained nothing of substance. In fact it contained almost nothing at all.

_Queen Elsa, meet me in the barracks. Now._

How dare he, Elsa raged internally. How dare he presume to tell her what do. How dare he—the fire went out of her, and Elsa sighed heavily. They might have butted heads over certain issues, but Gerhardt _did_ have Arendelle's best interests at heart. She spared a thought to try and see things through Gerhardt's eyes, but she couldn't quite grasp what he might have seen. Elsa tried a different tack; what if she hadn't been queen, but someone else was? What would the concern be?

How could I have been so stupid? Elsa cursed herself. How could I not have seen that? Am I blind?! Her internal monologue mellowed as she continued to think over the events of the day before. It wasn't deliberate, you just put someone else's needs ahead of your own. You set aside your responsibilities for her, but you'll never blame her. Anna is too much fun to be around. She's like a drug, and you don't care about an antidote. Bad Elsa, bad.

Elsa laughed, it seemed so silly to admonish herself like some misbehaved pet, but it worked. Making her way out of the castle she made sure to inform Kai exactly where she was going, and to inform him that she was unsure as to when she would return, but that she hoped it would be before dinner.

"Tea?" was Gerhardt's first question when Elsa entered his office. The conversational tone set her on edge.

"No, thank you."

"I honestly did not think you'd be that polite after I left that note for you, your majesty. I'm impressed," the marshal failed to hide a slight smirk. He knew how Elsa's father would have reacted to such a summons, so this served as something of a test to see how alike they really were.

"I'm not. I know why you summoned me here. You think I was acting like a little girl, not the prim and proper queen I'm always supposed to be. You also think I nearly caused a crisis of succession by taking my sister with me into the woods."

Gerhardt watched, fascinated, as fractal skeins of ice began to weave their way outwards from where Elsa's hands were placed against his desk. Slowly, so slow their movement was almost hypnotic, but Gerhardt was more interested in what the queen was saying—and leaving unsaid.

"You probably expect me to deny those things like some petulant child that can't see what she's done wrong." Gerhardt frowned at that. It was, to some degree, what he had been expecting the queen to do. To have her say it outright, however, meant there was something he'd missed. Or perhaps he'd simply underestimated her political aptitude; and in that respect at least, she was very much her father's daughter.

"But, Marshal, I am not going to deny those things. I am, as many would no doubt say if they were allowed, old enough to know better. I made a mistake, and I admit it. I also have some idea why you called me here to discuss this in private, rather than with the council."

"You do?" Gerhardt interlaced his fingers and leaned forwards, suddenly very interested.

"You plan to appoint someone as my bodyguard, 'for the good of the kingdom' or some such justification. After the commotion I caused this morning, you expect me to be unable to refuse, for fear of causing another such incident."

"Not just yourself, queen Elsa, but princess Anna as well. Outside the castle both of you seem to have little regard for your personal security. Arendelle, for the most part, respects and venerates the both of you. For the most part, as I said," Gerhardt's tone hardened. "Not everyone is like that. The wider world, the kingdoms around us"—Gerhardt spread his hands above the map on his desk—"they are not like Arendelle. Perhaps with the exception of Corona. My point is this, your majesty: the world is not a safe place. You will need protection. And in my life, I have found it more prudent to have such protection and never have needed it, than to need such protection and never have had it."

"Anna as well?" Gerhardt couldn't quite decipher the look that flashed across the queen's face. Something over and above mere familial concern.

"Yes," Gerhardt nodded. "Both of you. If we—by which I mean Arendelle—were to lose either one of you it would be a great tragedy, much as when your parents were lost. If, however, both of you were lost, it might well destroy the kingdom. You have no heirs. Your parents are dead. Your closest relative by blood lives across the ocean in Corona. It would be a crisis of succession the likes of which Arendelle has never seen. Your safety is our paramount concern. You may hate me for this, and you may chafe at such an intrusion, but you are going to have a bodyguard appointed before the council meets again.

"One way, or another."

"I could always dismiss you, Gerhardt. It wouldn't be hard," the marshal gave a little shiver then smiled darkly. There was an easy way out of _that_ one. He'd been saving it for a later occasion, something a little more public, but it would work just as well here, with a minimum of modification.

"You could. It would be easy. The rest of the council knows we don't get along, but I get the feeling questions would be asked. Questions of why. Of what I might have done, or said. Do you think your story could hold up to that kind of scrutiny?"

"Bastard," she all but spat at him.

"Call me whatever you want, your majesty. It doesn't change the fact that I'm right. You need protection, whether you want to admit that or not. You've already said you won't use your magic to harm people—which you might have to do if you were protecting yourself—so you need a protector who is willing to do that for you. I don't care if you hate me. I don't care if you can never talk to me again. All I care about is that Arendelle is kept safe, which means _you_ have to be kept safe."

Gerhardt saw the ice behind the queen's eyes, how hard she was holding back to keep from freezing something over. Half the desk was now covered in frost, tiny spikes rolling forward like waves cresting on the sea. He remembered the look she'd given him in the last meeting when he'd suggested bodyguards. A look that suggested she would never trust someone he had hand-picked for the task, no matter how qualified that soldier might be. So perhaps there was a way to defuse this.

"I am not the heartless monster so many think I am, sitting here above the rank and file, deciding who lives and who dies in war. My ultimatum remains the same: you require a bodyguard before the next council meeting. I know you would never trust anyone I chose, so perhaps you should try getting to know some of the men who are ultimately under your command."

"What?" the surprise in Elsa's eyes was clear to see. This was clearly not what she'd been expecting. Gerhardt allowed himself a small smile.

"Get to know the men. Maybe one will stand out as being good enough for you to employ. You had best do so quickly, because if you haven't chosen a bodyguard by the next council meeting, I will choose one for you."

"Can–can marines serve as bodyguards?"

"If you consider them more trustworthy than our other soldiers or sailors, certainly."

Gerhardt didn't both asking why. If the queen was asking such a question there could only be one reason.

Elsa left, not bothering to thaw Gerhardt's desk. That annoyingly self-satisfied smile had just been too much.

* * *

**AN:** Okay, some characterization may have been a little off there—nothing I can really put my finger on—but I blame it on following too many stories with too many differently nuanced Elsa's, Anna's, and everyone else's besides.


	27. Loyalties

"You want me to be _what?!_" Lieutenant Erikson's voice echoed across the field of assembly. Luckily no one else was close enough to hear either of them talking, which was important, considering he'd just called the queen's judgment into question. "Not that I am incapable of such duties, but I ask myself why. Why, when there are so many others here far more capable as warriors or guardians than myself?"

"_You_ managed to earn my trust—a little of it, at any rate. _They_ have not," Elsa sat in her chair, hands folded serenely in her lap. She had expected some protest, some surprise from lieutenant Erikson, but his next words just sounded obstinate.

"Your majesty, you haven't even given them the chance to—"

"I chose you, Hank," Elsa hoped using the lieutenant's first name might help him see things differently. "You, and you specifically."

"You chose me. I have not earned the right to serve as protector for anyone."

No such luck. Elsa sighed wearily, wishing lieutenant Erikson could see what she saw. She had chosen him to serve as her bodyguard because, while he might not have fully earned that right, he was closest to being able to understand what her wants and needs might really be. Then again, this would only be the fourth time they'd met, face-to-face, or in any capacity. Perhaps he doubted himself familiar enough to intrude upon her life that much—which, upon some consideration, was exactly the kind of intrusion Elsa was seeking. She sighed again. She knew Anna would tease her no end if this blew up in her face, or fell flat on its face. Oh, she'd be adorably cute while she did it, but it would still sting.

"Are you so sure of that?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me, lieutenant Erikson, how a man might earn the honour of protecting his queen?"

That was not a question Hank had been prepared for. He'd expected to explain about requiring a contest of some sort, a test to determine who amongst the marines would make a better bodyguard. Valour, devotion, loyalty, perception, discretion. Five key traits. Hank's brows furrowed slightly as he thought. Make that six, skill-at-arms was a definite requirement for a bodyguard. While he had all of those traits, Hank wasn't sure he had enough of them. Only the very best were worthy of protecting the queen, and he would never be so arrogant as to assume he belonged to that elite.

No, he was just a reasonably skilled soldier, of common birth and common—but proper—manners. He had also managed to catch the queen's eye, a fact that had escaped neither's attention. Or Ingvar's, for that matter. He'd started a rumour—not unkindly—about Hank and the queen shortly after he'd come back from visiting the castle that day. The day Elsa—queen Elsa—had teased him about graces; the day princess Anna had fallen into a fountain.

Elsa had asked him a question, and Hank realized he was silently stalling for time. Enough of that. Hopefully she would appreciate the truth more, spoken with candor, than she would any comforting lies. And if she was determined to place her trust him, she deserved the truth, no matter what it might eventually cost.

"First, such a man must possess great valour. At heart he must be able to face the greatest of challenges. He must also be prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. Fear must never cross his mind if such a decision is to be made."

"You already possess a greater valour than you know, lieutenant Erikson. You reached out to me—to _me_—without a hint of fear after I froze a young boy. That took more than a little courage," Elsa winked, continuing. "Not all forms of courage require great deeds upon the field of battle or the slaying of tyrants that live in mountain lairs."

Hank shuffled uncomfortably at the praise, folding his hand behind his back before continuing quietly.

"A bodyguard must also be both loyal and devoted to his charge. Loyal, such that no offer of land, nor riches, nor infamy shall tempt him to betray his master. Devoted, such that his will is invested solely in the protection of his master. Devoted, such that if a decision must be made to protect his master at the greatest of costs, he will never err, and never hesitate."

Elsa frowned slightly, considering what she'd just heard. Lieutenant Erikson was making solid points, and she had not yet had reason to question—or test—his loyalties. It seemed like he was trying to tell her would be unsuitable for the job. He was, in effect, questioning her judgement. With a moment's reflection it made sense. He was right to question her judgement—even as queen she was not infallible—he was right to do so because she had not even considered anyone else for the role. It was hard to consider anyone else, because she thought she'd seen the true character of lieutenant Erikson. Yet here he was, advising caution even against himself.

Lieutenant Erikson would be no mere bodyguard however; his true role would be akin to that of an old _houskarl_, guard, retainer, and assistant. Elsa still wondered why he advised against his own employ in such a role—unless he had not already thought through what being her bodyguard would really mean. _That_ gave Elsa pause. How best to explain things?

"Loyalty and devotion must be important traits for any guard to have, and a royal protector even more so. But that is not all you would be, lieutenant Erikson. As you can plainly see, the use of my legs has been cruelly denied me. This means there are a great many things of which I am no longer capable, and a great many more which I need assistance in performing."

"Queen Elsa, all this implies that you should spend longer seeking the perfect bodyguard and retainer, not a shorter time. I apologise if that seems impertinent, but I must state clearly my objections to what seems to me to be rash and hastily made decision. You deserve only the best, and you deserve the time in which to find that person."

"You should not feel the need to apologise for your candor, but I must inform you that time was not a luxury I was given."

"But you are the queen, your majesty. Should you not have had the time to choose this person on your own terms, at the time that was better suited to you?"

"I should have, but the events of the morning seem to have caused my advisors to reach a tipping point in their consensus of what is good for me—whether I may like it or not. Only you—amongst all the men that serve in our nation's army, navy, and marines—only you have shown me true compassion. Only you have let me glimpse your heart with no designs on mine. That was what earned you my trust, lieutenant Erikson. I pray it was not misplaced."

As she spoke, Elsa had been fidgeting with the crucifix bishop Gudbrand had gifted to her. Somehow, it seemed to give her strength. She knew she would need it if Hank refused her request. She could have made it an order, but that would have broken the fragile threads spun between them. It would have made him resentful, and her regretful. Resentment would turn to anger, and then he would leave. And in her shame she would be unable to stop him, unwilling to hurt him further. If he truly did not think himself suitable for the role of protector and assistant to the queen, then she would not force him into it.

But it would still hurt.

"I'm sorry, but could you please repeat that?" Elsa asked, realizing Hank had been talking while she'd been lost in thought.

"Certainly, your majesty. I said that I too hoped your trust in me was not misplaced, but that you had witnessed too little of my actions to make that decision as yet," Hank spoke softly, hating that he had to disappoint the queen in this way. It was the truth, and it hurt—as the old adage went—but it needed to be heard. Elsa, queen Elsa, had to make the best decision possible, decide on the best course of action to take. She should not have been forced to act on incomplete information. An idea came to him then.

"Could you not ask your advisers for more time in finding the correct bodyguard?"

"No," Elsa's sad sigh caught him off-guard. "For the good of the kingdom I cannot. And neither, for that fact, can my sister."

"It brings me great pain to deny your request, queen Elsa, but as a soldier, even as an officer, I am simply unworthy of the honour which you would have bestowed upon me. I will state candidly that I do not know who amongst the marines I would entrust with such a task, but I would ask simply that it not be myself."

"A request from the queen is not always so easily turned down, lieutenant Erikson," Elsa's words had an edge that Hank couldn't quite decipher. It was less than a warning, but more than… something he couldn't quite name. The pain behind Elsa's eyes broke his heart, but nothing he had just said had been untrue. He was courageous, as she had said, and he was most certainly loyal to Arendelle, but the simple fact of the matter was that he simply was not a good enough person to be the queen's bodyguard and assistant—or whatever such a role might be called.

"I know no one else," Elsa hid her face behind her hands, talking quietly. "Which means my protector will be the man chosen by Gerhardt. A man I could never trust."

Hank was quite sure that last remark had not been meant for his ears, or for anyone's ears for that matter. While he might not have like the Marshal of Arendelle, Hank had no reason to distrust him. Marshal Gerhardt had an agile and able mind, and had earned the respect of his peers. That he expected respect from others as if he were of noble birth grated with some people, his proven skill in battle, and his tactical nous made up for it. Mostly.

But there was one thing Marshal Gerhardt could not stand. He made a point of it every time a draft notice went out and he gave his speech. He made a point of it every time he addressed his soldiers before an exercise—and doubly so before sending them into battle. A soldier who was unwilling to fight, Gerhrdt often said, was worthless. He is more worthless than a soldier who died in vain. He is more worthless than a deserter. More worthless still than a traitor. A soldier who died in vain still _did_ something. A deserter _ran, _removing himself as a problem until he was caught. A traitor _fought_ for something—for someone else. A soldier who would not fight, a _pacifist_—Gerhardt would spit the word out—was worse than useless because he had all the skills and power of any of the others, but he refused to use them. Because of that, other soldiers would die. Soldiers willing to fight. Soldiers capable of fighting.

Hank looked at the queen with pity. If anyone had the right to be a pacifist, it was her. After all the violence she'd been party too, after all the fear and fighting, she'd earned the right not to have to fight again. It was not the place of a queen to fight. It was the place of a queen to rule. Hank considered the cruel irony that Elsa had been doing much more fighting than ruling since the—incident, as it was being called. She fought to control her powers. She fought to keep her sister safe. She fought for her kingdom. She fought for the right to be treated as equal, not because of her powers, but in spite of them. She was even fighting to turn him into her protector. She fought with the kind of strength Marshal Gerhardt had a hard time accepting. Hank was angry, but it wasn't possible to change the Marshal's views.

His own, on the other hand; he could change those with as much ease as he could change the stars. But sometimes, just sometimes, the stars would move about in the heavens and things _would_ change. Portents and omens, but the sky could change, and so could he. Hank placed a hand against Elsa's shoulder, unsurprised by the sudden dusting of snow. He would get used to such things. He would have to, there was no other way.

"Though I am not worthy, queen Elsa, I, lieutenant Henrik Erikson of the third Arendelle Marine Fusiliers do pledge my sole service to you in the role of protector and… and whatever else this position may entail," Hank smiled down at the queen, who had just turned to look at him, blue eyes awash with relief. "I do hope you know what you're doing, your majesty."

"So do I Hank," she replied softly, taking his snow dusted hand in one of her own. Softer, she repeated: "So do I."

The castle never failed to impress Kristoff. Compared to the barns and huts in which he normally slept, it was immense. He imagined how easily some of those barns could fit in the grand hall. He began to imagine filling the dining room—where he had once shared dinner with royalty—with the huts in which he sometimes slept. He was up to seven by the time anyone noticed him at the threshold of the castle's inner doors. He noticed that someone too, despite the tangled mess of her hair—and what looked to be a small forest growing from it.

"What happened to your hair?"

"Well that's a nice hello," Anna smiled as she rolled her eyes. "Me and Elsa were playing in the forest this morning. We maybe caused a minor little crisis that had half the kingdom looking for us, but it's okay now, 'cause we're back safe, and everything's alright. Hey, why are you here anyway?"

"Some hello that is too, princess feistypants," Kristoff smiled at his not-quite-girlfriend as she rushed over to him. "I was actually looking for queen Elsa."

"Wait, why?"

"Well, she gave me a title, and that came with some responsibilities, like actually _delivering_ the ice to neighbouring towns. I've finished a few runs, so now its time to collect more ice, either from the queen, or the mountains."

"You mean you're not here for me?" Kristoff wasn't sure how much of the hurt in Anna's voice was real, and how much she was just putting on.

"The world doesn't revolve around you," Kristoff replied lightly, wrapping an arm around Anna. "Even if you are the princess."

"I never said that. I was always the spare—people didn't dote on me like they did on Elsa. Even when she… even after… anyway, I'm used to it. But why can't it revolve around me sometimes? What about your world? Does it revolve around me? Or is it just about ice and snow—and Sven?"

"That is… that's not… okay, fine. I mean sometimes, sure, like birthdays and things like that. But not all the time, because you're not that important to the—ow! Anna. And why should my world revolve around you? Does yours revolve around me?"

"No… my world revolves around E—anyway, I think you know who I spend most of my time with."

"Do I?" Kristoff teased, making a face. "I hardly see you—yes, I know it's my fault too—but I know how much you love your sister. But you shouldn't spend all your love on just one person Anna, even if you were apart for thirteen years. If you want love to grow around you, you have to plant the seeds yourself. One seed only leads to a single tree. Love is meant to be a forest, wild and untamed—that's what Grand Pabbie says anyway. Not sure I always understand that, but I know that one lonely tree doesn't make a forest."

"Elsa isn't the only person I love, Kristoff. She's just the one I love the most, even… well, the most, and she loves me back in the same way. She doesn't think she deserves my love, not after everything she's done. It hurts when she says that—it really does. But I can't tell her because it would hurt her even more to know she's hurting me again. And I'm terrible at keeping secrets, everything that's bottled up inside just makes me wanna explode sometimes, y'know?"

Anna folded her arm across her stomach, and looked fixedly at the floor. "But I can't. Some of our secrets… I just can't."

"Can't what, feistypants?"

"I don't know. Can't keep them hidden forever, I guess. Can't tell anyone else. Can't tell if I'm strong enough to keep them secret for so long," Anna gave up with a cry of frustration, shaking her head sharply before looking to Kristoff. "I'm glad I can talk to you."

"I, uh—you're welcome?"

"I'm not sure when Elsa's going to be back. Kai said something about someone called Gerhardt leaving her a note. She rushed off a little while later. But you're here, and I'm here, and we kinda made plans for yesterday, didn't we?" Anna put that last question in what she thought of as a sultry tone.

"We did, but I don't think we have enough daylight left for that. Oaken's shop is quite some distance away, and I know we wouldn't be back before nightfall. I wouldn't want to be the guy that started all sorts of scandalous rumours about a certain fiery princess—umm, I mean, rumours that got started because of me, not because _I_ started them and—"

"It's okay Kristoff, really, it is. I know what you meant," Anna sighed softly. "I know I'm supposed to maintain this royal image thingy, but it's hard being all proper all the time when people can see me. I just want to be myself—and I try, but people keep reminding me what I should and shouldn't be doing as the royal princess. I mean, Elsa's not doing it so much anymore, but I swear she's probably still thinking it. At least you were never bothered by it."

"Because I never knew you were a princess. I just thought you were some silly girl that happened to get caught in a blizzard. Then you just had to ruin my perfectly good life—hey, how would you describe it if someone you just met completely messed up everything you knew or did? Yeah… that's what I thought. Ow. Okay, sorry, but it doesn't make it any less true. I did forgive you for doing that stuff—but that doesn't mean I've forgotten it. Like nearly setting me on fire."

"But I didn't."

"Nearly. An inch off the top between Kristoff and and barbeque."

"Hmm, I wonder what that wolf would've tasted like…"

"You're missing the point here."

"I mean, it did kinda catch on fire after I hit it, but that's not enough to cook something like that, right?"

"Anna, focus!"

"Oh, sorry," Anna shook her head. "Kinda drifted of for a moment there; you were saying?"

"An inch off the top. Between Kristoff and no Kristoff."

"Oh please, I knew I wouldn't hit you."

"Your face says otherwise."

"Hey!"

"Well, you did just look kinda worried about it. Like maybe you _weren't_ so sure you'd miss me."

"Fine. But I still saved your life."

Don't say it Kristoff. Just hold your tongue. Don't you dare say it.

"If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have been in danger in the first place!"

Damn. You really know how to get along with people, don't you? And in his mind that was delivered in Sven's mildly accusing tone.

"If it wasn't for…" Anna sputtered. "I think you can just wait for Elsa right there. I'm leaving."

And she did, storming off in a huff, hips swaying slightly as she walked. Kristoff couldn't help himself, he watched her ascend the grand stairs, then walk off without ever looking back. Even when she walked off like that, she still looked beautiful. It didn't hurt that she'd been leaving a trail of various bits of forest as she walked—falling from her hair as it bounced over her shoulders. She'd be back, Kristoff knew, Anna could never stay angry for long. Maybe it was his problem, he decided at length. Maybe he was still sore after losing his sled over the cliff, and maybe a new sled and an official apology hadn't been enough for everything he'd gone through helping her.

He'd do it again too, that was the problem. Kristoff sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd do it all again because he did actually enjoy Anna's company. He'd do it all again because her and Elsa deserved each other—in a good way. He'd do it again because it was simply the right thing to do. That was why he currently hated himself, rather than everyone else. He was too willing to do the right thing. It had led to trouble in the past, and that's why he avoided people these days. Well, he tried to anyway. Anna was hard to avoid—she liked it that way. And Kristoff had to admit, he liked it that way too.

The docks were always abuzz with activity. Ships were constantly coming and going, loading and unloading their cargoes. Passengers being taken on runs were not uncommon. Many were willing to travel in steerage to see the greater world. A few merchant ships catered specifically for passengers, promising comfortable voyages at reasonable prices. Routes included Prussia, France, Brittania, Spain, and even the Americas. None of those particularly impressed Stefan Larsson. But he never came to the docks to be impressed, he came to the docks to deliver information, or, as today, to receive it.

"Watch where you're going!" came the cry as he bumped into an older man. As he fell, he felt a hand snaking inside his jacket. But when the hand was withdrawn it had taken nothing. Larsson knew better than that where to keep his valuables. Then the older man offered his hand, and Larsson saw his cufflinks. Specifically, the emblem thereupon. It was not, as many incorrectly surmised, a weasel. It was an ermine, which meant this man was to be trusted. For now.

"The ground here is treacherous," Larsson issued the challenge, rising with the man's help. If this man answered incorrectly, well, it could still be made to look like an accident. "The docks can be slippery when wet."

"Pay heed to your footing. Not everything will thaw so swiftly."

"Indeed, my old friend. I fear a chill is fast approaching," Larsson started walking, the other man following him at a respectful and inconspicuous distance.

"A good fire will scour the chill from your bones, young man. You remember my advice," the stranger tipped his hat, then mingled with the crowd, instantly vanishing.

Larsson gently patted his jacket pocket, as if checking for his wallet or watch. There was a distinct bulge in the fabric. Opening his jacket he could just make out the edge of a small envelope. He shivered. This was it. Hopefully the duke would be giving him reign to act now, to act such that Arendelle would appear to betray Spain when they next met. Yes… all he needed now was to ensure Einar was the one sent on the diplomatic mission. Minister Johanssen would not take much convincing.

It was a pity really, because Johanssen should have been dead. His junior, Havard Vang, was much more conservative. It would have been so easy to control him, but minister Johanssen just had to survive his ordeal. Larsson considered if sending Havard might not be a better idea than sending Einar. No, Einar would always work better. He had ambition beyond his ability. Havard had neither, but Johanssen liked something about the boy, so had named him his protege.

There was also the other matter which Larsson had a hand in orchestrating. The idiots had of course managed to get themselves discovered. Starting over on_ that_ project had been more than frustrating, but the eventual payoff would reward that extra effort handsomely. Now he had reinforcements. The new group had not proved nearly as inept as the first trio.

Finally reaching his home some time later, Larsson made sure that everything within was secure and undisturbed. Windows were checked. The door was bolted. Bedroom curtains were drawn. Then the basement, with its rickety wooden steps, was aglow with light of a gaslamp on the far wall. Putting his feet up on the edge of a chest, Larsson sat on a barrel of grain. An empty barrel. Only then did he withdraw the envelope, flicking his switchblade open to cut the seal.

Reading the letter carefully, Larson memorized every word. He read it again to be sure. If the commotion this morning had been anything to go by, this really would cripple Arendelle at a critical juncture. Because apparently whatever the duke could not acquire with a silver tongue and veiled threats would be taken by force. Larsson smiled darkly. The more chaotic the situation in Arendelle was, the better chance the duke's forces would ultimately have. The queen's disregard for her own safety while traveling was about to come back to bite her. Larsson frowned. There had been hints about employing bodyguards. Whatever, they would have to be watchful every moment. He only needed to be watchful, to be lucky, exactly once.

* * *

**AN:** And now we start to bring things together. Plans and plots and schemes, all of them seem to intersect.

I'm not keeping to a regular update schedule because I like writing this too much to constrain myself to once a week or something similar. So I'll just keep writing, and then publish it when it's ready. Hasn't been a problem so far—though it has impacted my writing in other areas, but I learned long ago you can't please everyone all the time. Some of the people, some of the time, is enough.

Oh, and just shy of 100k words. Feels like some kind of achievement. ;)


	28. Words Unshared, Tears Unshed

**Trigger Warnings for Suicidal Themes**

* * *

Anna lay curled up in her bed, damp hair already starting to tangle. Elsa had insisted she take a bath to 'wash the forest off her', and as was usual now, Elsa bathed with her. Her sister had been distant all afternoon, absorbed in herself. Not in a good way either. Anna had seen the way her sister's eyes flicked sideways at sudden noises, the way she started when someone drew too near. It was a worrying development.

Elsa had said nothing about it during their bath. She'd kept the conversation deliberately light. She also avoided mentioning what they'd done the previous night in the cave. Anna honestly could not see the harm of one little kiss. It was the kind of affection Elsa deserved; the kind Anna was sure her sister needed. But apparently it played on her sister's mind in a different way. That was not the only change the day had wrought. Not by a long shot. Elsa had brought a man back with her. A familiar man. Lieutenant Erikson—Hank. Elsa had explained his presence at length, likening it to an old fashioned _huskarl_.

Then she'd explained that Anna needed a similar bodyguard. The red haired princess frowned at that, remembering her own reaction, remembering the way Elsa had apologized again as if it were her own fault. She'd explained how she was being forced into it by Marshal Gerhardt. Anna had had half a mind to explain to this Gerhardt just how ably she could protect herself—most likely using the incident with the wolves and that other one with Marshmallow as evidence. Then Elsa had gently reminded her how those had ended, the first with dropping a sled off the edge of cliff; the second, with dropping the princess off the edge of a cliff.

Kai had been giving her fencing lessons at one stage, Anna recalled fondly. Perhaps it was time to take them up again, only this time, she was going to win. Well, eventually. If she managed not to trip over everything or face completely the wrong way again. She remembered accidentally slapping a certain prince when she explained things. She had issues working out personal spaces. Throwing something sharp and pointy into the mix with her lack of coordination and inability to perceive personal spaces—maybe it would be safer for everyone if someone _else_ held the sword.

Elsa had told lieutenant Erikson he could retire for the night after dinner. Anna distinctly remembered hearing that, and then hearing Hank ask if he should retire only to the guardrooms, or to his old quarters in the barracks. Elsa had suggested he use one of the guest rooms for the night, and more permanent arrangements could be made in the morning. Hank had politely declined that, and by then Anna had finally figured out what was going on. Hank was going to be more than a bodyguard, but he either didn't know it, or perhaps didn't think it proper.

Anna turned to face her sister, smiling when she saw Elsa was asleep. The moonlight that filtered through the windows of Anna's room fell behind Elsa, turning her hair into a silvery halo and leaving her still troubled face wreathed in shadow. Anna shuffled closer, wrapping her arm around Elsa and pulling her into a warm hug. Elsa stirred but didn't wake, nestling into the redhead's shoulder. Anna smiled sadly as she tried to imagine what might be going through Elsa's mind—none of what she saw was particularly happy. But there was one image that stopped her cold—her own body, frozen on the fjord, with Elsa crying over it. Even though she cried and cried, Elsa's tears could not thaw this statue. It was the worst thing Anna could think of, and it sent a shiver down her spine even as she held Elsa close, hoping to give warmth to her darkened dreams.

As Anna poured her warmth into her sister, she remembered her own darkest moment. It was not as recent as Elsa's, but it was much, much worse. To her, it would have been the ultimate betrayal. She'd been fifteen at the time, more things than she ever thought about were changing, both inside and out. But the hardest change had come when that black veil fell across the faces of her parents. Gerda and Kai had been incredibly solemn, yet Anna knew, even then, that they were only just holding it together so that she could hold herself together. Then the funeral had come, and gone. Elsa still had not been seen. Anna was sure Elsa blamed her for it, for everything. In a fit of teenage pique, she'd decided the best decision would just be to remove herself from the picture entirely.

As usual Anna had not thought things through—she remembered that with a rueful little smile. The night had been bitterly cold through her thin gown. She hadn't thought something like that would matter, but in the end it was what had stopped her. One of the taller towers, one without a garden below it. A tower that happened to have a view of Elsa's window, and through it, her room. Looking up at the moon, Anna shivered in the cold air, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. A gentle breeze had lifted snow from one of the crenellations, and Anna's gaze just happened to follow it.

What she saw broke her heart, but filled her with a steely resolve. It was Elsa, her hair down, loose and unkempt. Her hands rubbed at her eyes, and Anna knew her sister had been wiping away tears. She imagined what it must be like, held prisoner in a tiny room, unable to see anyone. Unable to talk to anyone. When had she last heard Elsa's voice? A year ago? Two? Three? It had been so very long. At this distance Anna couldn't see much of her sister, but she could see the way she held herself, the way she tried to contain her emotions—but why? The figure in the window looked straight at her, surprise evident as she froze in shock. The window around her seemed to be frosting over from the cold of the night.

Elsa waved to her sister through the window, a small, tentative movement. It was like she wasn't sure what she was seeing was even real. Anna lifted her right hand as high as her shoulder and gave a little wave back. The window frosted over completely as Elsa realized who it was on top of that tower. Anna saw a silhouette running for the door, unsure why she might be moving so fast. Anna had almost forgotten why she was out on this windy precipice so late at night. Oh, right… now it just seemed so silly. Elsa was a real stinker, never talking to her, running back to her room and locking the door if she ever caught sight of Anna. For so long Anna thought her sister had hated her. But now, now it was clear that Elsa was just sad, and lonely, and for some reason wasn't allowed to see other people outside the castle staff.

That realization had hit Anna like a physical blow, and she knew that she could never, not for a second, think about leaving Elsa alone again. At the time, she hadn't known it would take another three years for her to really see Elsa again. She had no way of knowing what it would ultimately cost them. It was all worth it in the end, even the scolding she'd got from Gerda—who'd known exactly what she'd been planning, apparently. Gerda, who'd quietly arranged to have a hay cart 'forgotten' beneath the tower earlier in the day. Gerda, who'd sent captain Ragnar of the palace guard to quietly follow the princess from the third floor—captain Ragnar who had almost caused her to fall from the tower when he'd revealed his presence. It was, honestly, the last time princess Anna had ever entertained such thoughts.

Slowly drifting back to where she was tonight, Anna cradled Elsa's head in her hand, and gently pressed her lips to her sister's forehead.

"I guess Gerda probably already told you like ages ago, but thank you," Anna whispered, kissing Elsa's forehead again. "Thank you for saving my life."

Anna didn't know how much her sister had heard and understood while she slept, but she felt Elsa's arm enfold her in a sleepy hug. Elsa's head nestled against the redhead's shoulder once more, and she felt Elsa's gentle breath against her collarbone. It tickled. For some reason a light dusting of snow was falling, but Anna could feel her sister smiling, could feel the warmth she radiated at that moment. Out of the corner of her eye Anna saw something slowly building up at the foot of the bed. Where the snow touched it flowed from pure white to glassy and clear. Holding Elsa close, she hoped she wouldn't see the same statues from the night she'd lost her arm.

She didn't. The statue was young woman, her face was round, with a small nose—a cute little nose—and large eyes, filled with love. The statue's body was exquisite, thin without being fragile or delicate. Shapely without overly emphasizing any one feature. Hair that fell in a braid over her left shoulder. No, over both shoulders. Anna gasped in wonder. Was this… her? Was this her, as Elsa saw her?

It had to be. There was no one else in Elsa's life like that. Anna didn't want to wake her sister to ask at any rate. If she was dreaming of Anna, well, it had to be a good dream. A very good dream considering how warm Elsa felt tonight, and… what was that little shiver? There was another little shiver, and Elsa seemed to simply melt, falling away from her sister, eyes closed with a blissful smile on her face. Seriously, in my bed? Anna mentally asked her sister. Something about that thought brought her up short. In _my_ bed. Mine. You realize this is your own fault, right? she asked herself. You did kind of encourage her to, uh, try… that. _And_ you said you wouldn't mind if she thought of you while she…

Anna rolled over, facing away from her sister, now a little too disturbed to go to sleep. It was her fault for teasing her sister like that. She never meant for Elsa to take it seriously. Maybe she hadn't; but her dreams certainly had. Grabbing a handful of the blankets, Anna pulled the covers a little tighter, then snuggled into the bed. She needed sleep more than she needed to think about what her sister was doing—had done—right now.

The first thing Elsa noticed when she woke up was a pair of large turquoise eyes staring at her. The second was a knowing grin across the lips of her sister. The third was that Anna had tried—unsuccessfully—to tame the mane she had without the use of a brush. It was only after she processed all of this that she realized Anna had woken up _before_ her. She raised an eyebrow at her sister. Anna just continued to smile, then pointed to the foot of the bed.

"You have a nice dream last night?" she asked conversationally.

Elsa saw the icy statue, and froze. It seemed as if her magic was quite willing to betray exactly what she'd been dreaming about. Anna rose to sit cross-legged, waving an accusing finger in the air. She waved that finger as she spoke, silently mocking Gerda's habits.

"You know it's rude to do that in someone else's bed, especially if the courtship is not yet official," Elsa looked quite flustered, and a huge grin cracked Anna's mock-serious visage. A second later she had to bury her face in a pillow to suppress her laughter. Taking a moment to compose herself, Anna addressed her sister more seriously. "We can talk about that later—or not, if it's too awkward for you right now and I mean of course it's awkward 'cause you did that in your sleep in my bed and anyway that's not what I'm worried about."

"It's not?" Elsa propped herself up on her elbows, throwing a couple of pillows under her back for support.

"Are you alright?" and Elsa saw those turquoise eyes searching her with a furious intensity, as if trying to see right through her, into her soul. Anna wanted so badly to help, she always did, and Elsa knew it hurt her when she couldn't help. This would be worse, because it would scare her, and Elsa didn't want to see her sister afraid of anything—didn't want to be the cause of that kind of fear for anyone.

Idly fiddling with the cross beneath her nightgown, Elsa spoke softly to her sister. "I'm worried, Anna. About Arendelle; about us. Marshal Gerhardt insisted I find a bodyguard. You too. He said it was for the good of the kingdom, and it probably is. But the thing is, we've never needed guards like that in the past. Even papa and mom didn't have them. Arendelle has always been a secure territory as far as the monarchy goes. So needing a bodyguard means Gerhardt—and possibly the rest of the council—is afraid of something happening to either of us.

"I don't like thinking about, but with Gerhardt being so dead-set on us having bodyguards, it means there must people out there that want to kill us. People Gerhardt hasn't found. No, Anna, I didn't mean to scare you, but that's the truth of the matter. I'm afraid for me. I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid of what I might do if someone hurt you—of what I might become. But it's worse than that, because Gerhardt told me what my powers could do in a war. I'd be a weapon. A powerful weapon. There are a lot of other kingdoms and countries that would pay handsomely to see such a weapon taken out of the equation—permanently."

"I… I… Elsa…" Anna flopped bonelessly on her sister, wrapping her up in one arm as she fought back tears, hoping her sister wouldn't notice. Elsa noticed.

"I–I'm sorry Anna, but you did ask if I was alright, and I'm not. Not while I'm worrying about all of that. Not while I'm worrying about you. I'm so scared that I'll mess up again, and then this time you'll pay the price… and… and… I won't let that happen. Ever."

"We could always live in the ice palace, have an army of Marshmallows for guards," Anna winked at her sister. Elsa placed a hand against her forehead and sighed, shaking her head ruefully.

It wasn't that simple. Not after the things she'd discovered about her magic, the silent oath she'd sworn to never even try to use the breath of life again. Ruling a kingdom would be quite difficult from the ice palace. Running it properly would be even harder. There was a storm coming, she knew not from where, but it would be smarter to weather the storm than to try and run from it this time. And if this coming storm were to place Anna under threat, it would quickly learn that Elsa could fight, and that she would sooner die than see Anna hurt again.

"Can you help me get ready for breakfast?" Elsa changed the subject to something easier to talk about.

"I'll even show you how to cook it."

"It really was terrible, wasn't it?"

"No—okay, yes, it kinda was. But, I mean, I've done worse. Like way worse—you remember the 'partridge fiasco' a few years back?"

"Really?" Elsa asked, incredulous, as Anna helped move her from the bed. "You managed that?"

"It was an accident, okay. I swear somebody rearranged the kitchen overnight. I mean, I just wanted a little something to eat, so I thought I'd grab a leg, then one thing leads to another, and the next thing you know I'm wearing the stupid thing and the dogs are barking through the kitchen. The horse was a surprise. I mean had just been riding, but I hitched his reigns properly and everything and—"

"Anna?"

"I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Elsa laughed at her sister's tragically chagrined expression. "Anna," she spoke softly. "Don't ever change."

"Like you could make me," Anna poked her tongue out at her sister.

After taking care of her morning routines, Elsa sat on the floor, taking the time to fold her legs into an appropriately regal posture. Anna sat behind her, running a brush through Elsa's platinum tresses. Doing things like this with only one hand was challenging, but not impossible. It also let her experience some level of physical contact with her sister in a perfectly innocent way. It also reminded her of how they'd done this so long ago. Light shone against the clasp of small chest next to her wardrobe, and Anna remembered something from not quite so long ago.

Gently setting the brush aside, Anna rose, placing her hand on Elsa's shoulder to still her. Flicking open the catch on the chest, Anna looked over the treasures within. Not gold, or jewels, or even little fancies. Not even a secret cache of chocolates. Scraps of paper. Scraps of paper with small, neatly penned words on them. Scraps of paper with meticulous drawings, coloured with a little less precision. At the very bottom were three birthday cards, handmade, and very crude. Anna quietly took the box and sat in front of her sister, copying her cross-legged position. Anna withdrew the top sheet of paper.

On that sheet was a drawing of her, wearing a knight's helmet, tilting a lance, and riding a bicycle. Little lines showed her braids flying out behind her. It wasn't perfect—even at twelve Elsa had not been an artist. But she tried, and the effect was finely drawn picture, with a few extra lines, and some colour spilling out here and there. The best part of the drawing, to Anna, at any rate, was not the illustration of her, or the incredibly detailed door she was charging. The best part was that Elsa had made it. It was not the last thing they had shared, but it was close.

"You kept that?" Elsa asked, breathless with wonder.

"It was always my favourite," Anna replied, smiling, showing her sister the contents of the small chest. "I kept everything. It was all I had left of you after you shut me out."

Elsa was amazed that her sister would keep any one of those things. To have kept all of them… and her reason for keeping all of them… Elsa felt a weight crushing her from within. Thirteen years. Thirteen years as sisters, shut away from each other, and despite all Anna's attempts to reach out and connect,_ this_ was all she had to show for it? This time there were no elegant speeches. No heartfelt apologies. Elsa wished she could beg for her sister's forgiveness—forgiveness she never deserved. But her throat was too tight, and the words wouldn't come.

She saw her reflection in those beautiful blue-green eyes in front of her. Elsa saw her sister connecting all the dots as to what was making her sad this time. People might accuse Anna of being air-headed and scatterbrained, but Elsa knew better. Underneath all that energy, simmering behind the lack of a brain-mouth filter, her sister was one of the most perceptive people she knew—but seemingly only when it came it to her. Elsa didn't bother trying to hide her tears; Anna would know anyway. And would think of her as being bigger and braver for showing that emotion openly rather than trying to conceal it again.

"I should have been there for you!" Elsa slammed her fist against the floorboards, the carpet failing to soften the blow. "I should have tried being a real sister, not… I should have spent more time with you Anna. Especially after…oh, god, I remember that night… I thought I was seeing things, a lonely girl on a tower. I thought I was dreaming—that maybe I was seeing what I really should do and then–then the moon shone bright on your face. I–did I? I–I waved to you; do you remember?"

"I waved back," Anna smiled through her own tears, embracing her sister. "I waved back and you must have frozen your window in shock—I mean, I had no idea then, I just thought you were too close to the glass and it was kind of a cold night and—and I'm rambling again, but you knew? You knew it was me?"

"Once I saw your hair. No one else in the castle has that colour hair. I know what you were thinking of doing Anna—no, don't apologize to me yet—I know because I'd nearly done the same thing just after papa left with mom on the ship—just before…" Elsa sighed, closing her eyes, remembering. "I thought if it happened while they were away it wouldn't hurt them so much. They wouldn't be so sad. They'd still have you, and they could raise you as the amazing queen you were always going to be."

Elsa gently pushed her sister away; she hated talking about this, with anyone. Mostly because she never had, except for one heartfelt night where she hadn't talked, but where Kai had taken her aside and gently explained how badly Arendelle needed its princess. Needed both princesses. The loyal servant had then explained about a promise he had made to the king. A promise to always keep his daughters safe, no matter what. Elsa felt a hand under her chin, raising her eyes to meet her sister's gaze. Elsa averted her eyes, but a flicker of something caused her to look up, and then she could no longer look away. Anna held her gaze for a very long time.

"You really thought about that, didn't you." It wasn't really a question. Elsa took the honesty in that voice at face value, sighing heavily before she replied, tears silently cascading down her cheeks.

"I did, Anna. I made plans. I thought of lots of ways I could do that. I nearly did—more than once. I thought everyone would be happy when I was gone. I thought everything could go back to normal—no more magic. No more monsters hidden behind that door. I figured people would be sad for a little while, but then they'd forget me. They never saw me anyway, so what difference would it make if I really was gone? But I was stupid, and selfish, because I thought I'd be making you happy. I didn't think about how you might get sad if I was… if I was dead. I never thought about that. I just thought about how happy you would be if you could play with mom again, if you could bring friends to the castle. I never even thought about how much I would hurt you by trying _not_ to hurt you anymore. I was just a stupid, selfish little girl. Anna… I…"

"You don't have to say anything Elsa," Anna wrapped her sister in a heartfelt embrace. "I understand—well, I kinda think I understand—but I… okay, I don't understand. But I love you anyway. I still do. I know this must have been so hard for you talk about, Elsa. I'm proud of you. I really am. I wish mom and dad could see you now. Could see us together as sisters."

"So do I," Elsa choked back. "They would be so proud of you feistypants. So very proud."

"I–I'm not sure they'd like you calling me names."

"You earned that one. You should be proud of it, and it's so… you," Elsa toppled sideways as she tried to both gesture at all of Anna and leave their embrace. Anna landed next to her with a soft thud.

"No matter what anyone says, you're not the ice queen. I've seen the fire that burns inside your heart, and there's no hiding it anymore. You're not cold, and sorrow, and distance. You never were. You're warmth, and love, and protection. Oh, and scary. You're scary when you're angry, gotta throw that in there."

"Oh, you have to throw that in there, do you?" Elsa asked with a mischievous grin. Anna nodded, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she didn't see Elsa's face. It was Marshmallow's head, smiling at her. Her scream couldn't quite cover the giggling coming from beneath the snow. She held her arm out in panic as the mouth opened and started to engulf her. The snow suddenly fell apart, showering both sisters as Elsa was unable to control her laughter any longer. Everything was dusted with snow. Even the Anna-ice statue.

"What should we do with her?" Anna jerked her thumb towards the statue.

"I can tell you what I'd _like_ to do to her," Elsa leaned closer and whispered something in Anna's ear.

"Elsa!"

"What?" Elsa's eyes might have looked innocent. Her grin was anything but.

"She's a lady," Anna protested, rising to stand between Elsa and the statue. "She'd never do that, right?" Anna cocked her head, pretending to hear the statue talk. Her eyes went wide. "I take it back. Apparently with enough wine, and some candles, she would. You're a very naughty ice-statue, you know that?"

The statue denied nothing.

* * *

**AN:** Yes, that was dark. I've been seeing a lot of it going around recently, like From: Elsa ( s/10155685/1/), or Erasing the Past ( s/10266162/1/Erasing-The-Past). I'd written about 80% of the chapter before reading those, so I don't think it influenced my writing too heavily.

Speaking of influences, Hank is not entirely my own OC. AirbornAnomaly created him for his own story ( s/10025685/1/Split-the-Ice-Apart). At the end he offered the character of Hank to any of his readers. I borrowed Hank because he really is quite interesting character, although I've changed him a little to fit this story better.

And finally, I've been going through a bit of a rough patch with life, but it's better to get my angst out (and onto a page or something) than leave it bottled up inside. Of course it leaves me with this strange urge to write some very bad poetry, but there you go.


	29. Stolen

**Trigger Warnings: Suicidal Themes, Graphic Violence, Death**

* * *

Olaf was cheerful. Too cheerful for a lot of people, but that morning, at breakfast, he was the perfect antidote to what the sisters had been discussing—and were still discussing.

"What I don't get," Anna said around a mouthful of toast. "Is how Gerda knew. I mean, I just thought of doing that after the funeral, and… Elsa?"

"What did Gerda know? Why was there a funeral?" Olaf asked, but found himself ignored.

"I told her," Elsa confessed. "After what I'd tried to do, I was afraid losing mom and papa would push you over the edge. Everything in your voice, just… when you finished that song, that… song, it—well, it scared me, the way you sang it then. So when you left my door, I moved. I moved for the first time in two days. I couldn't lose you. I could never tell you back then, but I couldn't lose you. So I asked Gerda to 'watch over you', as Kai did for me when I–when I tried doing that."

"Wait, you guys are singers too?" Olaf asked, looking between the sisters, trying to figure out what they were talking about. It was probably something about love. "Wait, scary songs? did you try singing scary songs, is that why Kai had to watch you? In case you got scared?"

Elsa smiled down at her inadvertent creation. "Yes, Olaf, Anna can sing. The song wasn't scary, it was sad."

"Oh," Olaf dragged the word out as if it explained everything. "So when you got sad because of Anna's singing, you tried running away, but Kai made you stay?"

'Running away' Elsa mouthed to her sister, giving Anna a little frown. Anna understood the message well enough—Olaf was too pure and innocent to have to learn about such things.

"No, Olaf," Anna explained gently. "After our parents died, I thought about running away. Elsa stopped me. Well, she didn't catch me. I just saw how sad and lonely she was."

"But she's not sad and lonely now, she's got us!" It took Olaf a moment to process the rest of Anna's statement. "But why would seeing how sad and lonely Elsa was stop you from running away?"

"Because I loved her. I didn't want to see her hurt—even if it hurt me. I used to think she hated me—that that was why she shut me out."

"But Elsa can't hate anyone. She's too nice to hate people. Ooooh, but Marshmallow doesn't really like people, so maybe that's where it went. I'm sure we can figure it out. Anyone need a hug?"

Elsa rolled her chair around the end of the table. Anna dropped to one knee, extending her arm. Olaf looked torn, then a wink from Elsa sent him rushing over to Anna first. After a warm, if somewhat knobbly hug, Anna gestured for Olaf to move on to her sister. The little snowman obliged, jumping into Elsa's lap before she could react and wrapping his arms around as much of her and her chair as was at all possible. Elsa smiled at her sister, Anna smiled back, shuffling a little closer.

"Stop hogging the snowman."

"Hey, I made him."

"Hey, if we move closer I can hug everyone. Come on, closer, I wanna hug all of you now."

Anna wrapped her arm around Olaf and Elsa, kneeling so that there wasn't such a difference in height between them. All three of them spent several moments in blissful silence before Elsa eventually pulled away. She was glad for Olaf and Anna's presence that morning, they helped ground her, to remind her that it was the present moment that was important, not what she'd done in the past, and not what she was worrying about for the future. Of course those fears still played on her, but with her sister and the eternally upbeat snowman they had a much harder time taking root.

Elsa was glad her sister hadn't asked how Kai knew to stop her. That was the kind of confession that was just too painful to admit right now. It was the kind of confession where those listening and not already sitting in wheelchairs would need a chair in short order. Kai had dutifully hidden the evidence—she hadn't asked him to, but he knew what needed to be done. Elsa had a feeling he'd probably kept it safe, locked up somewhere no prying eyes could ever chance upon it. It had taken her a long time to write that note out. She'd had it prepared for some time, but that two week trip to Corona her parents took seemed like the perfect opportunity to actually go through with it. It wouldn't have been the first time she tried something like that either.

All her previous attempts had been thwarted because she'd either been seen leaving her room, or she'd been seen wandering the castle, or even because she'd suddenly had thoughts of Anna—those were always the worst ones, because they drove her to the edge of despair. It wasn't fair to keep hurting Anna like that. To fight those feelings, she'd written the note. She apologized for everything; explained how the kingdom would be better off; said a last goodbye, and finally left all of her things—few as they were—to Anna. She thought she'd been prepared for what she was about to do. She resolved to face her fate with head held high, but her old fears still played on her mind.

Elsa didn't know when Kai had found the note, possibly only minutes after she'd left her room. Maybe longer, she couldn't be sure, and neither could he. Somehow he knew where she would be. Kai had explained that it was just a feeling, something pulling him towards that tower—then he saw the rime ice covering the walls. The frost across the carpets. The icicles growing from the walls. As one of the few remaining servants he had known about Elsa's powers, the king had said nothing about them, but Kai had managed to put everything together some time earlier, and when he had asked the king about this, everything had been revealed. The king said if Kai had managed to discover that much on his own, he deserved to know the whole story. The king had even given him the chance to leave, no questions asked. Kai refused; his duty was to the royal family—the whole royal family. The king had merely smiled, then picked up the book he had been reading once more.

When Kai managed to break the ice on the doors to the outside of the tower Elsa had been standing just shy of the edge, looking down into the courtyard below. It was definitely high enough to work. She hoped it wouldn't hurt too much—then scolded herself for thinking that. After how much she'd hurt Anna, she deserved to hurt at least once before leaving this world forever. She shuffled closer to the edge, turning around so maybe when she fell the last thing she remembered would be beauty of the evening sky. She never expected to see Kai standing there. She never expected to see anyone there, in fact, and the shock nearly caused her to stumble over the edge. Her hands shot out instinctively, grabbing the crenellations to either side of her.

Kai had said nothing to her at first. He'd simply extended a hand towards her. Neither of them moved. Elsa was afraid if she took that hand it would change everything between them. It would change how he saw the crown princess. She was afraid that if she didn't take that hand that he would blame himself for what she was about to do. Slowly, carefully, Elsa used her arms to pull herself forward, getting her feet under her. She took a step away from the edge. Another. She managed one last step before she collapsed into a heap. She heard Kai exhale in relief.

When Kai spoke, it had been a quiet prayer, thanking the Divine that he'd managed to make it to the tower in time. Thanking Him for showing him the way. Thanking Him for making it so that he wouldn't have explain this strange loss to young princess Anna. That had changed something deep within Elsa, a sense of loneliness that had cleft her heart in twain so very long ago. Kai had very quietly asked what would have happened if princess Anna had seen her fall; if she'd seen… the end. Crawling to the edge of the tower, feeling Kai put a restraining hand on her shoulder, she looked out over the courtyard again. In one window, not that far from the tower, a young girl with fiery hair was practicing her dancing.

Elsa crawled back from the edge, finally noticing the snow falling around the tower. Finally noticing that Kai seemed completely unperturbed by it, only occasionally brushing snow from the shoulders of his jacket. It was early autumn, no time for snow, but he was unafraid—Elsa was fascinated. Kai offered his hand once more, but Elsa brushed it away. She needed to go back to her room. She had to atone for this—how could she have forgotten where Anna was going to be? Or had she? Had she secretly wanted Anna to see, to know that she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore? How could she have wanted that? Elsa was so ashamed of herself that she couldn't hide the tears. She couldn't conceal it—not this time.

Kai had escorted her silently through the castle, choosing each passage carefully, avoiding anyone seeing the crown princess. When they arrived back at her room, Kai had wordlessly opened the door, making sure no one else was around before he whispered something to princess Elsa.

"I know. You father told me. I swore an oath to protect you and princess Anna, your highness. I do that to the best of my ability every day. I'll do it even if it means protecting you from yourself. Please don't hurt yourself, your highness. It won't be too long before your parents are home—I will not tell them, if you promise to speak with them for me. I will pray for you, the Divine will keep you safe, and so will I. If you need me, I will never be far."

There were no words. Elsa simply didn't know how to express her gratitude. It was such a foreign concept, someone being nice to her. Helping her. Someone unafraid of her powers—although he'd never seen what they could really do. There were no words, so Elsa just stared silently at the floor, hugging her arms until she heard the door close. The lock made a satisfying click.

"Good night, princess Elsa," Elsa heard Kai whisper from the far side of the door. "May the Divine protect you, always."

He was trying to keep her safe. Elsa remembered curling up under the covers, not bothering to change. And after Kai had left, the crown princess of Arendelle had cried herself to sleep. She had no idea of the news she would receive in three days time. For now, she was just eighteen, barely beginning her life. Eighteen, and for ten years she'd never talked to her sister. Eighteen, and she was prepared to hurt her parents like that. Eighteen, and she'd been prepared to throw everything away, in a stupid attempt to protect Anna. Some sister she was. The nightmares that came that night weren't of hurting Anna with her magic. They were of her own death, falling through the night, her ruined body lying in the courtyard, and Anna always being the first to find it. Elsa's ghost tried to explain herself, tried wishing it undone, but no one listened. And in all those nightmares, after seeing Elsa's body broken and lifeless on the ground, Anna had started climbing, climbing to the very top of the castle, stepping out onto the landing, taking one final step. Into the abyss. Elsa had been forced to watch, unable to ever look away. Anna's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and no matter how much she scrunched her eyes closed, the picture wouldn't go away.

Anna, fifteen years old. Anna, so bright and cheerful and playful. Anna, her own sister, lying there in the courtyard. Limbs twisted and broken, blood matting her fiery hair and pooling beneath her head. White spears of bone. Elsa couldn't look away. Anna's face was the only uninjured part of her body, but even that was wrong. Eyes of simmering turquoise, that burned so bright in life—they were empty. Motionless. Still as water on a windless day. Elsa blinked, tears staining her cheeks. It wasn't enough to bring Anna back. Nothing ever was. And in the distance, Elsa saw her own broken body, and she knew it was all her fault.

"Elsa?" a small, concerned voice cut into the dream. An impossible voice. It sounded like an angel. "Elsa, are you okay?"

Elsa blinked slowly. She was in the castle. The breakfast hall. She was sitting in something made of ice. A chair—her wheelchair. She hyperventilated a few times before drawing in to herself, rediscovering everything she now was. The memory of _that_ dream had been incredibly jarring. She was still left with a visceral sense of anguish and horror.

"I–I got lost in my memories again Anna, I'm sorry," Elsa took a deep, shuddering breath. "It was a bad one."

"Is–is that why you're crying?" Anna was kneeling down in front of her now, looking for a sign that the new Elsa was still in there somewhere.

"I'm crying?" Elsa pressed her fingers against her cheeks, feeling dampness there. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. "I guess I am. It was a sad memory, about 'running away'—I had nightmares about it. Nightmares that you'd try and 'run away' too. I was afraid you'd be like me. I–I'd like—C-can we talk about it… later?"

"Later," Anna nodded, wiping away the last of Elsa's tears. "And if you don't want to talk about then, I'll understand. I won't push, I promise. I know how hard it was talking about this earlier."

"Oh, look, pancakes!" The sisters turned, confused and disoriented at Olaf's exclamation, to see a cook walk in with one plate piled high pancakes and another plate used to carry several small jars of jams and preserves. Anna licked her lips, quickly figuring out how many of those delicious pancakes she could get away with eating before anyone else made a grab for them. The fact that the 'anyone else' in question was Elsa made no difference. Elsa noticed her sister's hungry eyes upon the stack of pancakes and Elsa wondered if she'd ever looked at her sister like that—the hunger in Anna's eyes was slightly unsettling.

"So, he's going to be a _huskarl_?" Anna spoke around an overly large mouthful of pancake.

"Manners, Anna. And yes, he is. It's a little more than that—you know how sometimes you, uh, 'help' me?"

Anna nodded understandingly, swallowing her mouthful.

"Hank's going to have to do that sometimes. I don't think I'm going to like explaining it to him though—and I can see where it might cause problems. Rumours will probably be started by the less scrupulous, but you and I know the truth—and so will he."

"Don't you think that's like, asking really a lot of him, and not giving him much back. I mean, yeah, I see why, but being your _huskarl_, you should make him feel like he's the very best there is. Like no one could replace him at it. It's great you can be together—I mean, as friends, and—I mean go for it—wait, what?"

Elsa laughed softly. "You really do want to see me with Hank, don't you, feistypants?"

"You'd make a cute couple, plus, I bet he dances good enough for two people. I mean, you told me you don't dance—I guess that's very true now—but it would be nice to waltz sometime, wouldn't it? Oh, oh, and I need Kai this morning—I just had a great idea about legs and stuff, and I wanna see if it works," Anna frowned in a moment of indecision. "Actually, maybe I better talk to the craftsmen, they could help me make something."

"Anna, I admire your energy, but why don't you take a day off from bouncing around everywhere and getting underfoot—yes, I've heard 'stories' from certain people. Come on, don't look at me like that, go out, have fun in the town maybe—go see Kristoff, you owe him an afternoon don't you?"

"I do… maybe I should go into town for a while. You're sure you'll be alright while I'm gone?"

"I'll try to be, Anna, I really will. Be safe out there—take captain Ragnar if you have to."

"He never takes that armour off—I swear he must sleep in it, then polish it in the bathroom or something. Wait… Elsa, are you saying it really isn't safe for us to go alone through town now?" Anna's eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the realization. "Maybe I should just invite Kristoff here. It'd be safer."

"I–I want to agree with you Anna, but please don't limit yourself for my sake. If you feel safe enough, go with Kristoff. If not, he's always welcome here."

"Hey, couldn't I make Kristoff my bodyguard?"

"What, on top of being official Ice Master and Deliverer, _and_ your boyfriend?"

"Sure, why not?" Anna couldn't see anything wrong with her plan. "I mean, if he's my boyfriend, he's supposed to protect me, right?"

"If he had to sacrifice himself to save you, would he do it?"

"He already has. Twice."

"Okay, would _you_ let him do it?"

"Oh," it was then that Anna finally saw the flaw in her brilliant plan. A bodyguard had to be willing to give up his life to protect his ward. His ward had to be able to accept that. She couldn't try and stop him—ever. Even if she really did like him. Which made Anna wonder about just how much her sister really liked Hank. For once her mouth obeyed and she didn't ask the most insensitive question she could think of. Elsa had probably already thought of it anyway, otherwise she wouldn't be pointing it out to Anna. That had to be it.

"I'm still talking to the craftsmen," Anna informed her sister. "Then I'll find Kristoff and give him an afternoon he'll never forget."

Elsa cradled her head in one hand. "Please tell me you didn't just say that."

"Say what?" Anna smiled sweetly, giving her sister a little wink. It was, in all honesty, the most terrifying expression Elsa had ever seen on her face. She shuddered involuntarily, already imagining a large number of things that they could be doing. Before her imagination went too far, Elsa tried to remember where the best wines were. There was a certain mental image of two close friends that she needed out of her head. Immediately.

The noonday sun saw Anna and Kristoff once more making their way towards the forest. The heartwood, not the border forest, Anna had to remind herself. No need to scare half the country like that again. It felt silly to have had so many men looking for her—her and Elsa—but they were the current ruler of the kingdom, and the sole possible inheritor of that title. Now that fact—one Anna had long ago set aside in her head—was painting a very large target on both her and Elsa. She thought Elsa was being overly cautious, but had found captain Ragnar before leaving anyway. Kristoff had objected to the captain's presence, but Anna had talked him into grudgingly accepting the captain for the ride.

There was a sudden twang, and solid thud of metal against wood. Anna whipped sideways to see a crossbow bolt embedded in the flank of the sled. Then the whole world erupted into fire and smoke, and splinters were flying in every direction. Upside down, dazed and confused, Anna watched as Sven bolted towards the woods. The rear of his harness had been shredded by the blast, but he looked fine as he galloped into the distance.

Pieces of debris were still raining down around them, and it took Anna a moment to realize that she was no longer in the sled. The blast had thrown her several yards, and the back of her dress had somehow been torn to shreds by the dirt path. Staggering to her feet, she looked around in vain, trying to find Kristoff, or captain Ragnar. Anyone. She heard a cough from beneath a pile of wooden planks, and was using her legs to gain leverage as she wrenched at the pile with one arm.

"Stand back!" came a gruff voice beneath the pile. Ragnar. Anna stood aside and the pile of scraps virtually exploded into the air, the guard captain drawing his sword as he rose. "Princess Anna, get behind me."

Anna took a moment to look around before she complied. She saw Kristoff stir amongst the ruins of his sled—and half buried by the dirt that had somehow erupted around them. Two dozen men crested the nearest ridge, and as Anna turned to run, she saw half a dozen more climbing over a low hill there too. They could try running along the road, but now she wasn't sure what kind of traps might have been placed there.

"Captain Ragnar, your dagger?" Anna held out her hand to the guard captain. When he hesitated she continued. "I don't care who they are. They attacked us. I will not stand here like a defenseless little girl. Give. Me. Your. Dagger."

The weight of the weapon felt good to Anna. She was afraid, she'd never fought like this in her life. Even play-fighting the guards had never been like this. They'd only ever ganged up on her in threes or fours. Here she was facing down almost a score. They had swords. Armour. _Crossbows_. They were so close, moving purposefully towards her. Ragnar held his ground a moment longer, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Ragnar fell to one knee, three crossbow bolts piercing the air where he once stood. It was a trick he could only use once, and he was already fighting beyond the level of these marauders. His blade swept clean through the leg of the man in front of him, barely skipping against the bone. As the man fell Ragnar rose, driving his sword through the man's throat. Spinning sideways, Ragnar managed to draw his poignard to parry a high strike from one of the raiders while his broadsword bound against another.

A flick of his wrist and a quick step to his right allowed Ragnar to disengage his poignard and stab it through the neck of the man in front of him, skipping off his armour's gorget. Ragnar had no time to think about how and where raiders had managed to acquire fine quality cuirasses like these. All he had time to do was kill these men in order to clear a path for princess Anna to escape. Kicking the dying raider away from him, Ragnar turned, leading with his blade.

He was met by another swordsman with a wicked grin and dark sideburns. There was a flurry of blows between them as Ragnar sought an opening, then, feigning a stumble, he turned and shoved his blade through the side of the raider's armour, just beneath his armpit. The tip of his sword emerged from the raider's neck. He felt something slice at his leg, and then something slammed into his back with enough force to drive him to the ground. Blackness threatened to consume him.

One of the raiders above him was preparing to plunge his blade through Ragnar's chest. The guard captain rolled aside, feeling something snap against his back as he did so. There was sudden moment of vertigo as he rose, and Ragnar saw the tip of the bodkin protruding from his chest. The bolt had gone clean through him. He heard princess Anna's scream of terror, and a black rage filled him. How dare these bastards try and harm a royal princess of Arendelle.

His sword carved through the raider's breastplate as if it were nothing. Only then did Ragnar see the makers mark. Only then did he see the crest emblazoned against the bevor. A gods-damned weasel. With a cry of inarticulate rage captain Ragnar launched himself at the nearest of the Weseltonian soldiers. Such treachery could never go unpunished. The first soldier lost an arm trying to parry. Then his hand, and half the crossbow it had been holding. And suddenly Ragnar's poignard was buried hilt-deep in his chest.

There were still too many, and the crossbows were reloading. Ragnar charged the nearest soldier, exchanging a dozen blows in half as many seconds. A high strike met a middle guard, and a low thrust with the poignard was countered with an artful sidestep. Ragnar punched the man in the face, the basket hilt of his broadsword greatly increasing the effectiveness of the blow. As the Weseltonian soldier staggered back, Ragnar kicked him in the groin. There were rules when fighting—but other rules applied when saving the life of a future monarch. His poignard opened the man's throat while his broadsword bound and circled another Weseltonian blade.

A second blade slashed down his left arm, cold steel drawing blood. Ragnar grunted in pain, dropping the poignard. The soldier in front of him kicked out, but Ragnar rolled with the blow, growling as his injured arm caught against something. He parried furiously as both soldiers closed on him. A massive blow to the stomach caused him to look down. A bolt was embedded up to the quills in his armour. Ragnar fell to one knee, turning aside a blow aimed for his head, managing to slash open the other man's leg with the same movement.

That soldier stumbled, and Ragnar cracked the man's jaw against his knee. Then he drove his sword through the man's back. He heard a woman beside him scream, and an instant later the other soldier collapsed in a heap, Ragnar's dagger sticking out of the back of his neck. Ragnar couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Neither could princess Anna, apparently, because she chose that moment to collapse beside him, panicking about killing someone and apologizing profusely to any gods that might have been listening.

Another Weseltonian soldier approached, ready to grab the royal princess. But Ragnar wasn't dead yet, and he would sooner die than see the princess hurt. With a massive effort he stood, wavering on his feet, and stepped between the princess and the soldier. The soldier raised his sword, preparing to run the palace guard clean through. Ragnar parried with his injured arm, feeling the blade bite deep against his wrist—but it was out of line, and the Weseltonian soldier had no time left to react. Blood sprayed across Ragnar's face as the Weseltonian soldier's head hit the ground with a dull thud.

Anna screamed, and fainted. She never saw what became of captain Ragnar. Kristoff did. The captain of the palace guard stood, bleeding from a dozen wounds, and even as another crossbow bolt slammed into his chest, he charged. Two more of the Weseltonian soldiers fell to Ragnar's blade before he died. The captain of the guard fell without ceremony, impaled from behind by a Weseltonian sword.

Satisfied he was no longer a threat, the soldiers bound Anna and dragged her away over the eastern hill. The rearguard from the far hill top—obviously intended to cut off any retreat by Anna's party—crossed the field of battle a few minutes later. One of them stopped to take Ragnar's Poignard from where the captain had dropped it. Kristoff watched in silent disgust, and hated himself for it. He really did care about Anna, but even he'd wanted to, he couldn't have done anything about it.

The first reason for that was that he was no soldier, and ten to one were bad odds no matter who was fighting. The second, and more terrifying reason was because one of those first crossbow bolts—the ones that had missed Ragnar—was currently pinning his right arm to the side of the sled. It had barely missed the bone, but Kristoff still saw a lot of blood coming from that wound. Biting back a scream of pain, Kristoff took hold of the bolt and tried pulling it from the side of the sled. No use. He tried gently levering the bolt sideways, but the pain was too much and he very nearly blacked out. There was only one option left.

Kristoff closed his eyes, counting to three. His whole body wrenched forwards, tearing his arm free, over the tail of bolt. He felt feathers and splinters grate against muscle and sinew inside his arm. Then he did black out. It couldn't have been for too long, because when Kristoff looked up at the sky once more the sun hadn't significantly changed its position. His satchel had bandages in it. Kristoff found it buried in the rubble of his sled—what the hell had those bandits used to do that? There were bigger problems, of course, like finding Sven… although seeing as he'd run into the heartwood, their family might find him. He would be safe for now. But Anna.

Kristoff's face fell. Elsa—I have to tell Elsa; it'll destroy her. No, they kidnapped Anna, she's alive, so they must want her for something… think you idiot, think, why would anyone want to kidnap… oh no. They did it to control Elsa. It has to be that… but they've never seen Elsa angry, and… Kristoff's train of thought ground to a screeching halt, refusing to budge beyond that point. An Elsa driven to the edge of despair, or worse, to the limits of her anger, would spell doom for everyone. Unless… unless Anna was safe. Anna was the key. Kristoff swore—and not just because he'd managed to cinch the bandage too tight.

Passing Ragnar's body, Kristoff took note of the crest on the fallen soldiers around him. A black weasel, on a gold background. It had to mean something to Elsa. The ice harvester carefully rolled captain Ragnar over, closing his eyes as a rite of passing. He felt he had to say a few words, to mark the death of someone who had apparently been a great man.

"You were a man like everyone else. You were a soldier; captain of the palace guard. You gave your life to protect the most important person in the world. You were a hero, and you weren't afraid to die."

Placing the captain's broadsword in his hand, Kristoff gently placed the captains hand against his breastplate, sword pointing to his feet. It was one lasting image Kristoff remembered from the time he'd visited a tomb in a nearby town. A battle had taken place in the town hundreds of years ago, and the knights who fought and died had been immortalized on their stone caskets. Kristoff thought it right that captain Ragnar should have an end that dignified.

Several hours later a dejected and quite frankly terrified Kristoff made his way into the castle. Kai rushed to his side as soon as he noticed the ice harvester.

"Elsa," He coughed to the royal servant. "Must talk… to Elsa."

"At once, master Bjorgman," Kai lifted Kristoff's uninjured arm over his shoulders and wrapped his own right arm across Kristoff's back. The loyal servant supported Kristoff as best he could while they made their way to Elsa's study. He told Kai nothing—Elsa had to know first. She had to, it was _her_ sister.

"Kristoff?" Elsa could see he was injured, and exhausted. They were not the kind of injuries or exhaustion playing with Anna normally caused. The crude bandage around his right arm was a giveaway that something very, very bad had happened. Elsa stopped immediately, trying to damp down her emotions. She had just realized that Kristoff had returned—without Anna. His injuries looked like they were from fighting, not playing. There was a look in his eyes, a cast to his exhausted features. Captain Ragnar was also missing. Elsa thought she hadn't cared about the palace guard that strongly. Then again, old captain Ragnar had given her and Anna piggyback rides on his armoured shoulders many times when they were younger… before…

Kristoff saw it happening before he spoke. Snow was beginning to build up against the walls. Snowflakes hung lazily in the air. The high window at the back of the room had frosted over. Rime ice coated the ceiling. Elsa's desk was taking on a definite sheen as she braced her hands against the dark wood. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to hear. Her calm centre was _gone_.

"It was an ambush," Kristoff explained quickly. "They hid something beneath the path, it exploded when the sled touched it. No more sled—I'm sorry Elsa, I know your craftsmen worked hard on that for me."

"I don't care about your freaking sled!" Elsa choked out, tears already staining her cheeks. "Just tell me about Anna! NOW!"

"They took her. Whoever it was, They knew where we would be," Kristoff shivered as the temperature in the room dropped by ten degrees. Ice covered all the walls, and snow built up in deeper and deeper layers across the floor. "Captain Ragnar tried to fight them off, but there were just so many. Too many. The first shot missed him and pinned me to my sled—I wanted to help, but I couldn't. Ragnar stood his ground until the end."

"Anna!" spikes of ice erupted from the desk. "Just… just tell me. Anna?"

"They took her. I think she fainted when captain Ragnar cut a man down right in front of her—"

"He what?!" the ice around the room had taken on a sinister red glow. Kai was struggling to hold the door to the study open.

"They had this on them," Kristoff threw the emblem he had managed to prise from one soldier's armour onto Elsa's desk. "The men who kidnapped Anna."

Elsa took a deep, unsteady breath before she could speak again. A second breath. All her pain and sadness filled the next word she said. "Leave."

Kristoff ran for the door, nearly tackling Kai as he stumbled through. The servant slammed the door shut and fell against the wall. But it wasn't over. The scream that echoed through castle was barely human. Rage, despair, hatred, and regret were a powerful mix. The room behind them rumbled with power, and Kristoff felt the entire castle shake with sound of a thousand windows shattering in unison. Silence reigned for a long, long time after that.

Eventually, Elsa managed to open the door. Through the gap Kai and Kristoff saw that the room had been utterly destroyed. Pieces of glass littered the floor. Gold fixtures were warped and fallen across the floor. The carpet was shredded. The walls were scoured clean, the brickwork exposed in places. Elsa's desk, her father's grand desk, was just gone. Not even splinters remained. Elsa's breathing remained ragged, and she looked around as if in a stupor. She was hugging herself tightly, and her eyes passed right through the two men in front of her office door. She didn't know them, nor did she want to. There was only one thing she wanted right now. One thing forever denied her. With a ragged breath it escaped her lips, and she fell into a endless realm of darkness.

"Anna…"


End file.
